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Sandman’s 

Good Night 

Abbie Phillips Walker 

HARPER £? BROTHERS. PUBLISHERS 




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Ca.i\dmaLrv’s 
Goodrvight 
♦ Stories 



Hek,rper <3 Brothers, Publishers 





<30^ 


Books by 

ABBIE PHILLIPS WALKER 


SANDMAN’S STORIES OF DRUSILLA DOLL 
SANDMAN’S RAINY DAY STORIES 
SANDMAN’S CHRISTMAS STORIES 
SANDMAN’S TWILIGHT STORIES 
TOLD BY THE SANDMAN 
SANDMAN’S TALES 
THE SANDMAN’S HOUR 


Harper & Brothers Publishers 

Established 1817 


g)C!,A627706 
14 1921 


Sandman’s Good-night Stories 

Copyright, 1921, by Harper & Brothers 
Printed in the United States of America 

K-V 


■. i '^•0 I 


To My Sister 
MARY P. BABCOCK 
I Lovingly Dedicate 
These Little Stories 


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CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The Eatyoup 3 

The Tell-tale Goblin 6 

Dame Cricket’s Story i6 

The Playroom Wedding 20 

Morning-glory 26 

The Peacock Butterflies 31 

The Revenge of the Gnomes 35 

The Little China Shepherdess 41 

How THE Buttercup Grew Yellow 46 

Was It the Field Fairy? 52 

The Frogs and the Fairies 61 

Jack the Preacher 65 

Mr. Crow Goes and Tells 69 

Discontented Dewdrop 82 

Inquisitive Mr. Possum 86 

What the Flowers Told Martha 90 

When Jack Frost Was Young 99 

The Revenge of the Fireflies 104 

Sallie Hicks’s Forefinger 109 

The Rain Elves 116 

Mr. Fox’s Housewarming 12 1 

Little Pitcher-man 127 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


The Wind-flower’s Story 13 1 

Pussy Willow’s Furs 136 

Orianna 140 

Old North Wind 144 

Mr. Fox Cuts the Cottontails 148 

Little Never-upset 152 





THE EATYOUP 

D icky duck was a very wise young 
fellow. He swam about the pond alone 
long before his brothers left their mother, and 
such worms and bugs and things of that sort 
as he found made all the other young ducks 
quite green with envy. 

But one day Dicky Duck almost lost his 
life by thinking he was so wise, for he was 
swimming around the pond when he came to 
the woods where Mr. Fox was hiding back 
of some bushes. 

Dicky did not go near enough for Mr. Fox 
to catch him, but Mr. Fox could see that he 
was a nice plump duck and it made his eyes 
shine with longing to look at him. 

“Ah me,” he sighed as Dicky swam by. 


4 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

only I knew some wise creature to ask! 
I am far too dull to know anything myself/* 

When Dicky heard the word '‘wise’* he 
felt sure that meant him, for was not he the 
wisest duck of his size and age? So he 
stopped swimming and looked around. 

Mr. Fox had hidden himself well under the 
bushes now. Not even the tip of his nose 
could be seen and he made his voice sound 
very weak, as if he were a very small animal. 

“Who is it that wants to know a wise 
creature?” asked Dicky Duck. 

‘ ‘ Oh, a poor little animal called Eatyoup , ’ ’ an- 
swered Mr. Fox, laughing so at his joke that he 
could hardly speak. ‘ ‘ I am very stupid and do 
not know much and I have no wise friends.” 

Dicky Duck had never heard of an Eatyoup, 
but he had no intention of letting anyone 
think there was anything he did not know, 
so he swam nearer and said, “Well, I am wise, 
and if you wish to know anything ask me. 
Come out where I can see you and we can 
talk to each other better.” He was trying 
all the time to get a glimpse of the new 
animal, but Mr. Fox was a wise creature 
himself and he had no intention of being seen. 

“Oh, dear! I should hate to show my 


THE EATYOUP 


5 


miserable little self to such a big, fine-looking 
creature as you are,'’ he said. '‘It is bad 
enough to have you know I am stupid, but if 
you will come closer I will tell you what it is I 
want to know.” 

Dicky Duck by this time was very brave, 
for what had he to fear from so small a creature 
as the Eatyoup. So he swam right up to the 
side of the pond and out bounced Mr. Fox 
and almost caught him. 

If Dicky had not used his wings as well as 
his feet he would not have escaped, but he 
was in the middle of the pond, swimming for 
dear life, by the time Mr. Fox was in the water, 
and as the farm was not far off Mr. Fox de- 
cided not to risk his life. 

When Dicky Duck reached the barnyard he 
told all the fowl about the strange animal he 
had seen, called an Eatyoup, and that, while 
he had a very weak voice, he was almost as 
large as big Rover, the dog. 

Of course everyone thought Dicky wiser 
than ever when he told this, but for all that 
he was very careful not to swim near the woods 
again, for, though he had told the fowl he had 
seen an Eatyoup, he was pretty sure in his 
own mind that he had met Mr. Fox. 



THE TELL-TALE GOBLIN 

O NCE upon a time there was a Little Fairy 
who loved to wander by the river, and 
as the Fairy Queen does not like her subjects 
to go too near the water, the Little Fairy had to 
steal away. 

Always when they held a revel this Little 
Fairy would fly away from the dance and 
wander down by the river to watch the ripple 
of the water as it flowed over the pebbles and 
stones. 

One night a Goblin, who always watched 
the fairies, happened to be sitting under a 
bush and saw the Little Fairy. 

“What is she doing here all alone?” he said 


THE TELL-TALE GOBLIN 


7 


to himself. ‘‘She has run away from her 
sisters, and I am quite sure the Queen does 
not know where she is. I’ll watch her, and 
if she is up to mischief I’ll tell the Queen. 

ay be she will give me a new red coat for 
telling her.’ ’ 

Now, this little tell-tale Goblin began to 
watch, and pretty soon he saw a mist rise from 
the river; then it looked like foam, all silvery, 
in the moonlight. 

And then suddenly as he watched, the 
goblin saw a handsome youth rise from the 
river and hold out his arms to the Little Fairy 
standing on the bank. 

“Ah-ha!” said the Goblin. “She has a 
lover, has she? Well I’ll tell the Queen and 
I guess these midnight meetings will be stop- 
ped, and I am sure now I shall get a new coat 
for telling.” 

The River Youth called to the Fairy just 
then, and the Goblin forgot the red coat to 
watch what happened. 

“Come, my love,” called the White Youth, 
“take the willow path and you will be safe 
from the water. ” 

The Little Fairy flew to the willow tree 
beside the river and tripped lightly along a 


8 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

slender bough which dipped its tip into the 
water. 

When she reached the end the White Youth 
was there to take her in his arms. He carried 
her to the middle of the river, where there was 
a little island, and the watching Goblin saw 
them sit upon the soft green grass in the moon- 
light, but he could not hear what they said. 

‘‘I’ll run and tell her Queen and let her 
catch them,” said the Goblin, and, forgetting 
that his red coat could be plainly seen in the 
moonlight, he jumped up and ran along the 
river bank toward the dell. 

“Oh, oh!” cried the Little Fairy, with alarm, 
when she saw the Goblin, “whatever will 
become of me? There is a Goblin, and I am 
sure he has seen me and is going to tell the 
Queen. Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be 
banished.” 

The River Youth, who really was a River 
God, reached for a horn of white shell which 
hung from his shoulder by a coral chain, 
and blew a shrill blast, and the Goblin fell 
upon his face on the ground. 

“Rise!” called the River God, “and tell me 
where you are going?” 

“Oh! Your Majesty,” said the sly little 


THE TELL-TALE GOBLIN 


9 


Goblin, was about to go to the Fairy Queen 
and tell her one of her fairies was being 
carried off, but of course I shall not do so 
now. I see whom she is with. I thought it was 
old Neptime himself and he might change her 
into a mermaid.” 

The River God knew the bad little fellow 
was telling him a wrong story, but something 
must be done, so he pretended to believe 
the Goblin, and said: ^‘Well, now you know 
the Fairy is safe, what can I do for you if you 
keep our secret? ” 

‘'Give me a silver cap,” said the Goblin, 
quickly. 

‘ ‘ Very well. Come here to-morrow night at 
midnight hour and you shall have the cap if 
you have not told the Fairy Queen what you 
have seen,” said the River God. 

The Goblin promised and off he ran to his 
home in the rocks, and the River God took 
the Fairy back to the willow tree. “ Come to- 
morrow without your wand, my love,” he said; 
“we must not delay, now that the Goblin has 
seen us, for he cannot be trusted after he gets 
the silver cap.” 

The next night the Goblin was by the river 
waiting when the Little Fairy arrived. 


lo SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


Where is your wand?'’ he asked, for he 
saw at once she did not have it. 

Before she could reply there was splash in 
the middle of the river and out of the mist and 
foam the River God lifted his head and called 
to the Fairy. At the same time he held up a 
little silver c^p to the Goblin. 

The Little Fairy went to her lover by the 
same path as before, but she took from his 
hand the little silver cap and tossed it to the 
Goblin before she flew into her lover's out- 
stretched arms. 

'‘Now tell him where your wand is," said 
the River God. 

"I have left it behind me in the dell," she 
said, blushing and hanging her head. 

"What! are you not going back to the 
Queen?" asked the Goblin, in astonishment. 
"Are you to become a river sprite?" 

"You have guessed it," said the River God. 
"This night we are to be married at the bot- 
tom of the river. Farewell, you little tell-tale 
Goblin. I hope your silver cap fits your 
peaked little head." 

The Goblin watched the Fairy and her 
lover as they slowly sank from sight, and then 
he ran off as fast as he could to the dell to tell 


THE TELL-TALE GOBLIN 


II 


the Queen what he had seen, “ril get a red 
coat, too,’’ he said. '‘I did not promise not 
to tell to-night.” 

The tell-tale Goblin was so bent on telling 
the Queen what he knew that he quite for- 
got his new silver cap until he reached the dell 
where the fairies were dancing; then throwing 
away his old cap, he clapped the silver cap 
on his head so hard he cried out with pain. 

For a second he saw stars, and the cold 
silver felt very different from his soft, warm 
peaked cap which he had tossed aside. 

The little fairies, seeing the Goblin hop- 
ping about in the moonlight, called to the 
Queen: “Oh, look, dear Queen. Drive away 
the Goblin ; he acts quite mad and may mean 
mischief.” 

The Queen, knowing that Goblins, when 
they were quite sane, were not friendly to her 
fairies, held up her wand and cast a ray of 
light straight into the Goblin’s eye. “Leave 
our dell,” she said, “or something will happen 
to you that you will not like.” 

“Oh, wait, wait and hear what I have to 
tell!” called the Goblin. “I know a secret 
you must hear.” 

“Oh, don’t listen to him, dear Queen!” said 


12 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


all the little fairies. “It is wrong to tell 
secrets. Go away, we will not listen. “ 

But the Goblin would not go; he wanted to 
win a red coat, 'and he was sure the Queen 
would give it to him for the secret he could 
tell. 

“If you will give me a new red coat I will 
tell you something about one of your fairies 
you would like to know,” said the Goblin. 

“Oh, what a funny head he has!” said a 
fairy as the Goblin lifted off the silver cap, 
because it was so imcomfortable. 

All the fairies began to laugh, and oq his 
head he clapped the cap again to hide his 
queer peaked head, and again the cap made 
him see stars until he jumped with pain. 

“Oh, he is quite mad, you may be sure!” 
said the Queen. 

“I am not mad. Listen and I will tell you 
the secret, and you will know then I am very 
clever to have discovered it,” said the Goblin. 
“But first I must know if you will give me 
the red coat. I shall not tell you if you do 
not.” 

The tell-tale Goblin did not think for a 
minute the Queen of the fairies would refuse 
to pay to hear a secret, and when the Queen 


THE TELL-TALE GOBLIN 


13 


told him he was a bad, mad fellow and to be 
off, he was quite surprised. 

“You will be sorry,” he said as he hopped 
away, and then he thought he would tell it, 
anyway, for what was the use of knowing a 
secret if you did not surprise others by show- 
ing how much you know. 

Back he ran, but the fairies and their Queen 
put their fingers in their ears and ran away, so 
they could not hear. The telltale Goblin, 
however, was bound to tell, and he ran until 
he was near enough to shout: “She has 
married a River God and she left her wand in 
the dell; they gave me this silver cap not to 
tell.” 

When the Queen and the fairies heard this 
they stopped and the Goblin thought they 
wished to hear more, so he went to them and 
said he would help them hunt for the wand, 
if they would come to the dell. 

The Queen put her finger on her lips to 
warn the fairies not to speak, and back they 
went to the dell, following the Goblin, who 
was hopping and jumping along before them. 

“Here it is,” he said, stooping to pick up a 
little gold wand. 

“Hold!” cried the Queen; “do not touch it. 


2 


14 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

I will pick it up, and now that you have told 
us the secret you shall have your reward/’ 

The Goblin hopped with delight, for he was 
sure the Queen would touch him with the wand 
and he would have a new red coat at once. 

“You shall wear the silver cap the rest of 
your life,” she said, and before the Goblin 
could jump away the Queen tapped him on 
the head, and in place of the tell-tale Goblin 
there stood a silver thistle, all prickly and 
shining among the leaves and bushes. 

“Your sister has left us, and we must forget 
her,” said the Queen as the fairies followed 
her home. “Let her be forgotten by you all; 
her wand shall be saved for a more worthy 
sister.” 

The Little Fairy never regretted marrying 
her River God, for she lived happy ever after, 
and sometimes when they come up from the 
river bottom to sit in the moonlight she will 
say to the River God: “What do you sup- 
pose became of the Goblin? Do you think 
he ever told the Queen?” 

“Of course he did,” replied the River God. 
“He ran as fast as he could to the Queen, but 
the silver cap was so imcomfortable for him 
to wear that I am sure he has discarded it 


THE TELL-TALE GOBLIN 15 

long before this. So he gained nothing for 
playing the spy.’' 

'‘Perhaps his conscience pricked him and 
he is sorry,” said the Little Fairy. 

The Little Fairy was right. The Goblin was 
sorry when it was too late, and the silver 
thistle swayed in the breeze. It tried to tell 
the breeze it was sorry for telling tales, but 
even the breeze did not wish to listen to a 
prickly thistle, so there it had to bloom imloved 
and alone the rest of its life. 



DAME CRICKET’S STORY 
OME, children, it is time to get up,” 



said Dame Cricket to her ten little 


crickets. 

” Hurry, now, and take your bath and put 
on your little black caps and your little brown 
suits. The sun has almost gone down over 
the hill and the birds will soon be asleep.” 

But the little crickets snuggled under the 
bedclothes just as if they did not hear their 
mother’s words. 

Come, come,” she said, a few minutes later, 
'‘you will sleep all night if you don’t hurry. 
Some of our cousins are already singing, and it 
will soon be dark.” 

‘‘Oh dear! why do we have to get up?” 


DAME CRICKET’S STORY 


17 


said one little cricket, poking his head over the 
clothes. “Lots of bugs sleep all night.’’ 

“Yes, but they are up all the daytime,” 
answered Dame Cricket, “and they run a 
great risk, I can assure you, my dear. Our 
family used to sing in the daytime, but if we 
had kept on there would be no cricket family. 
There is a reason for our sleeping days and 
singing at night.” 

“Oh, mother, is it a story?” asked all the 
little crickets, jumping out of bed with a 
bound and gathering about their mother. 

“Yes, there is a story about our family, and 
if you will all hurry and dress I will tell it to 
you,” she said. 

Very quietly all the little crickets began to 
dress, and their mother began the story: 

“Once, long, long ago,” she said, “our 
family sang in the daytime and slept at night ; 
but one day the Great-grandfather Cricket 
noticed that our singing was not as loud as 
usual, so he called all the children, big and 
little, about him and looked at their throats. 

“‘Strange, strange!’ he remarked. ‘You all 
have fine-looking throats, as fine as ever 
crickets had, and yet our singing is very faint; 
there is not as much volume to it as in the 


i8 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


old days. I will call on Doctor Frog this 
very day, and see what he thinks about it.’ 

''Doctor Frog thought awhile and then he 
asked, 'How many have you in your family, 
now, Mr. Cricket?’ 

"Great-grandfather called us all about him 
and began to count, and to his amazement he 
found our family was only about half the size 
it should be. 

"'Just as I thought,’ said Dr. Frog, 'the 
voices are as good as ever, but there are not 
so many of you, and, of course, the singing is 
not so loud as it was once. 

"'Shall I tell you the reason for this?’ 
asked Dr. Frog. 

"Great-grandfather said that was why he 
called on him, so Dr. Frog told him that the 
birds were eating our family, and if they kept 
it up we soon would be out of existence. 

"‘Horrors! horrors!’ chirped Great-grand- 
father Cricket. 'Whatever will we do to 
preserve the family?’ 

" ‘Easy enough to do that,’ said Dr. Frog. 
'Sleep days and sing at night as our family 
do; little chance we would have if we came 
out and sang in the daytime.’ 

"So that is the reason we sleep days and 


DAME CRICKET’S STORY 


19 


sing nights, so the birds and chickens and bug- 
eating animals cannot catch us. 

'‘Of course, sometimes they do get a cricket, 
but it is always one who has stayed out too 
late or gotten up too early, usually a very 
young cricket who thinks he knows more than 
his mother or father. 

"But the good little crickets who mind and 
get up when they are called are pretty sure to 
live to a good old age.” 

When Madam Cricket stopped talking all 
the little crickets stood looking at her with 
very curious expressions on their faces. 

"We are good little crickets, aren^t we, 
mother? ” they asked. 

" Of course you are. Here you are all ready 
to go out and sing and the sim has just dropped 
behind the hill,” she said. 

"Chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp,” they sang as 
they scampered after their mother out into the 
night. 



THE PLAYROOM WEDDING 


P aper doll had been the maid of 
honor, but she did not at all approve of 
the match. “It will never be a happy mar- 
riage,” she told Teddy Bear the night of the 
wedding. “Such marriages never are. How 
I should feel married to a man who wore 
dresses.” 

Yes, he did look as if he wore a dress, for 
he was a Japanese gentleman doll, you see, and 
when he came to the playroom to live every- 
body, including French Doll Marie, thought he 
was very queer looking. 

But after a while they became used to 
Takeo, for that was his name, and when the 


THE PLAYROOM WEDDING 


21 


little mistress announced that Marie was to 
marry Takeo she did not make the least 
objection. 

''What difference does it make?’’ she said 
to Frieda, the Dutch doll, who lived next to 
her. I suppose I shall have to marry some- 
one, and truly I could never live with Jumping 
Jack; that fellow makes me so nervous.” 

''He seems very quiet,” said Frieda Doll, 
meaning Takeo, ''and perhaps you can get 
him to dress in men’s clothes after you are 
married.” 

''Yes, he is quiet and I cannot understand a 
word he says, so we shall not quarrel,” said 
Marie Doll. 

And so they were married. Jack-in-the-box 
was the minister, because the little mistress 
thought he stood better than anyone else. 
She put a black cape on him and a white collar, 
and Jack behaved in the most dignified manner. 

Little Paper Doll wore a dress that quite 
outshone the bride’s dress, only no one 
noticed it; but it was all lace and had tiny 
little pink buds caught in the flounces, and she 
wore a beautiful hat with white feathers. 

The bride wore a white dress and a long 
white veil, and there were tiny white flowers 


22 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


all around her head which held the veil in 
place. 

But Takeo was far from looking the bride- 
groom, to Paper Doll’s way of thinking, 
though Marie Doll gave him no thought at all, 
for she thought the bride was the important 
one, and as she told Frieda Doll, ‘‘You have 
to have a bridegroom to be a bride, of course; 
but really he is not of any importance that I 
can see.” 

They had been married a week, and, while 
Marie talked to Takeo, he, of course, did not 
take the least notice of what she said. “ Poor 
fellow, he cannot understand,” said Marie 
Doll. “He won’t be any trouble, though, be- 
cause I shall be able to do as I like. He can- 
not tell me not to.” 

“These foreigners, my dear,” said Paper 
Doll, “are sometimes unpleasant to live with. 
I cannot see how you came to marry him. Do 
make him wear men’s clothes.” 

“Oh, I think he looks quite out of the or- 
dinary, and everyone stares at him when we 
go out riding in the park with the little mis- 
tress,” said Marie Doll. “As I am French, 
you see we both are foreigners, so that does 
not matter; and then, dear, Takeo is so 


THE PLAYROOM WEDDING 


23 

comfortable to live with. He is no bother 
at all.” 

But one night Marie Doll awoke to find her 
husband quite a different man from what she 
thought, for beside her sat two little Japanese 
dolls. 

When the clock struck twelve Marie Doll 
called to everyone: ‘‘ Come quick and see my 
baby girls!” 

'‘Oh, dear! they look just like Takeo,” said 
Paper Doll. “This place will be filled with 
foreigners. It is too bad.” 

“I shall change their clothes at once,” said 
Marie Doll. 

And then it was Marie Doll and all the toys 
got the surprise of their lives, for from the 
comer where he sat came Takeo, and when he 
stood in front of his wife, he said, “Madam 
will not change the clothes of our sons.” 

When Marie recovered from her surprise, 
she gasped : ‘ ‘ Sons ! They are daughters ! ’ ’ 

“They are sons, madam, and sons they will 
remain!” said Takeo, looking at Marie very 
steadily. 

“I thought you could not understand or 
speak our language,” said Marie, while all the 
others stood looking at Takeo in astonishment. 


24 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

“I was made in this country, and so were 
you; but I was made to represent a Japanese 
gentleman and I intend to live the life of one. 
As for speaking, we Japanese never speak 
unless we have something to say. I had some- 
thing to say, and I said it. You heard me, 
madam. Those children are our sons and you 
will not change their clothes.’’ 

Takeo turned around in a very sedate man- 
ner and returned to his comer and sat down. 

I told you it would not turn out well,” said 
Paper Doll to Teddy Bear. “Oh, poor Marie 
Doll, what a life you will lead!” 

But Marie Doll was still looking at her 
husband, and she did not hear what Paper 
Doll said. She was smiling at Takeo. “Such 
dignity,” she whispered to herself, “and how 
masterful he is. I shall never dare disobey 
him. 

“Oh, you little darling boys! How I love 
you ! Y ou are just like your handsome father. ’ ’ 
And Marie Doll hugged her children to her 
and began to rock them. 

“She is crazy,” said Teddy Bear. “Marie 
would never give in if she were in her right 
mind, I know.” 

' ‘ She is in love, ’ ’ said Paper Doll . ‘ ‘ She has 


THE PLAYROOM WEDDING 


25 


foimd a master, and some women love to have 
a master.” 

“You women are queer creatures,” said 
Teddy Bear. * ' 1 shall never imderstand you. ’ ’ 
“You are not supposed to understand us. 
You are supposed to love us,” said Paper Doll. 



MORNING-GLORY 
NCE upon a time there was a very little 



w Morning-glory that grew on the end of 
a high vine, and one day when the wind was 
blowing a brisk breeze passed by the little 
Morning-glory, making it wish it, too, could 
go along and see more of the world. 

The big mother vine knew what was in the 
heart of her little Glory, so she whispered soft 
words of love to it and told the little flower 
that it must never follow the breeze, for he was 
a wanderer and might take it far from its 
home, where it would be very unhappy and 
perhaps die out in the cold world. But the 
silly little Morning-glory still wanted to leave 


MORNING-GLORY 


27 


the big vine, and the next time the breeze 
came along it pushed up its head and the 
breeze took it off the big vine and bore it 
along with it far, far away. 

But by and by the wind grew tired of carry- 
ing the little Glory, so it dropped it, and when 
the Morning-glory looked around it foimd it 
was in the midst of big tall trees and rocks and 
briers. 

Vainly it tried to crawl along to a tree where 
it could twine itself around and climb, but it 
was too small, and then the rain came and 
made it cold and wet, and even the fickle wind 
did not come to it again. 

Then the cold days came and the poor little 
Glory grew faded and had to crawl under the 
dead leaves for protection. 

When the summer came again up came the 
little Glory, but it was a sad little flower. 
Now it longed to climb, but it was too small 
to do anything but lie on the ground. 

After a while it grew near to a bush and put 
its weak little vine around it, hoping to get 
off the ground. 

'‘What do you mean by trying to cling to 
me?” said the bush. "I have all I can do to 
take care of myself.” 


28 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

So the poor little Morning-glory dropped 
back to the ground. By and by it grew long 
enough to reach a tree and slowly it climbed 
up the big trunk until it came to the branches. 

“Now I shall be able to see the world,” it 
thought. ‘ ‘ This tree is big and will shelter me, 
and I can climb to the very top.” 

As soon as the big tree saw what was happen- 
ing it told the little Morning-glory it would 
not have it climbing about its branches, be- 
cause it would spoil its leaves. 

“What are you doing in our woods?” asked 
the tree. “You should be growing in a 
garden, on an arbor or up the side of some 
little house. How came you here? ” 

The poor little Glory had to tell how it ran 
away from its mother with the breeze and was 
left alone in the woods all winter. 

“Please don’t send me back to the ground. 
I cannot see a thing there and I am so lonely,” 
pleaded the little Morning-glory. 

“I am sorry for you,” said the tree, “but I 
cannot have my leaves spoiled on any accoimt. 
I’ll tell you what I will do, but you must be 
satisfied and never ask for more liberty. If 
you do, back you go to the ground.” 

The poor little Morning-glory was so lonely 


MORNING-GLORY 


29 


and sad it was ready to promise anything to 
get off the ground. 

“You should stay where you are, but you 
cannot grow up any higher. If you do I shall 
grow my twigs and leaves about you and crush 
you,” said the tree. 

So the little Morning-glory had to promise 
to stay on the trunk of the tree and never 
grow any higher, but it sighed for its mother 
vine, and, because it could not climb, never 
grew any big blossoms, but tiny little flowers 
which sighed because they could not stretch 
out their vines and grow. But the tree kept 
the little Glory to its promise and not a vine 
could get above the trunk. 

And then one day when the days grew cold 
and the Morning-glory vine was going to 
sleep for the winter, the runaway Glory was 
heard to say to the other blossoms : ‘ ‘ Children, 
be careful of the breeze and what he may tell 
you next summer. I may not be here to care 
for you, but he will surely come and tempt you 
to go along with him. He is fickle and will 
carry you far, far away and then drop you in 
a place perhaps worse than this, for we do not 
belong here, but in a garden with other, 
flowers. I ran away from my mother vine 


I 


30 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

one day, and this is where the breeze left me; 
so cling to the big tree as long as you bloom, 
for here you are safe at least, even if you do 
not live and bloom in a garden.” And then 
she went to sleep. 



THE PEACOCK BUTTERFLIES 
LAIN little Miss Butterfly sat on k bush 



1 one day, when along came Mr. Peacock, 
with his tail full spread. 

‘‘Oh — oh!’' sighed little Miss Butterfly. 
“How handsome he is! If only I could have 
a dress like the colors of Mr. Peacock’s tail 
all the other butterflies in the world would 
envy me. 

“But here am I, oniy a plain little creature, 
with no color to boast of, while all my cousins 
have gorgeously colored gowns. Oh, how I 
do wish he would give me two feathers from 
his tail that I might have them made into a 
gown!” 


32 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

And then this plain little Butterfly, because 
she was so plain and had no beauty to speak 
about, began to think about handsome Mr. 
Peacock. '‘I wonder if he is vain?” she said 
out loud. 

“Vain! Of course he is. There is no one 
in the world so vain as he,” said a Bee, who was 
sipping honey near by. 

Miss Butterfly did not ask any questions, and 
Mr. Bee was too busy to say more. But when 
he flew away Miss Butterfly began to think, 
and the more she thought the stronger became 
her intention to fly over to the Peacock and 
speak to him. 

Over she went, alighting on a flower near 
him. 

“Mr. Peacock,” she said, “I wonder you 
never have wished to see yoiurself, you are so 
handsome.” 

“I have,” replied Mr. Peacock; “often I 
have gazed into the pond and beheld my hand- 
some self.” 

“Oh, that is not at all what I mean,” said 
Miss Butterfly. “ Suppose you were to see the 
very pattern of yoirr beautiful tail flying all 
about you. Then you coiild look at your 
beauty as it really is.” 


THE PEACOCK BUTTERFLIES 


33 


do not see at all what you mean,” said 
Mr. Peacock, who was not very quick at 
thinking. 

” I mean if you would give me two tips from 
your beautiful tail I could have a handsomer 
gown than any other butterfly in the world,” 
said the little flatterer, ''and besides that, you 
would no longer hear the yellow-and-black and 
those brown-and-black butterflies say that 
they were the handsomest creatures in the 
garden. I should outshine them all.” 

Mr. Peacock stood up and strutted about, 
and all the time little Miss Butterfly flew close 
to him and flattered him. 

''Oh, how jealous they would be if I had a 
dress like your beautiful tail, for there are no 
colors in the world so gorgeous, and they 
would call me the Peacock Butterfly! Think 
of that! You would have the niost beautiful 
butterfly in the world named for you, Mr. 
Peacock!” 

Mr. Peacock could not resist this flattery. 
He told her she could choose the two tips she 
best liked and have some one to pull them out. 

It did not take Miss Butterfly a minute to 
fly to the tree near by where Mr. Woodpecker 
was at work and ask his help, for she knew he 


34 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

did not bother butterflies. His work was to 
find small insects. 

Before the end of the summer the garden 
folk saw Miss Butterfly, but not plain little 
Butterfly now, for she wore the most gor- 
geous gown in the garden, of blue and black, 
and the next year all the other butterflies were 
jealous of the Peacock Butterflies, who wore 
the handsomest gowns in the world. 

Mr. Peacock struts more than ever every 
time he sees one of the handsome creatures 
he helped to dress, but no one knows that it was 
due to the flattery of plain little Miss Butter- 
fly that the family name was created. 



THE REVENGE OF THE GNOMES 



HE Fairies decided to give a party one 


1 night, and invited the Goblins, but they 
did not ask the Gnomes, because they did not 
think of them. 

The Gnomes live so deep in the earth that 
the Fairies seldom meet them, and so they 
really forgot and did not in the least intend to 
slight them. But the Gnomes heard the 
Goblins talking about the party one night and 
they were very angry because they were not 
asked also. 

The woods were very beautiful, and some 
of the trees were wearing their red and yellow 
leaves, for it was late in the summer. When 


36 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

the moon came out the green and red and 
yellow made a pretty picture, and the Fairies 
were delighted with the setting for their party. 

The Fairy Queen had a new carriage made 
from a petal of a white lily and drawn by two 
butterflies. The Fairies all had new dresses of 
pink rose petals and they had the fireflies in 
all the bushes and trees where they looked like 
so many tiny electric lights. 

Their table was spread on a big rock; the 
rabbits were to wait on the table because their 
coats were white, and squirrels were to do the 
cooking in a little hollow. The table cloth was 
spun by a spider and was so beautiful that the 
Queen, when she saw it, thought it was a shame 
to cover it with dishes, so she had the rab- 
bits put the food on a rock behind a tree and 
leave the beautiful cloth so the Goblins could 
see it. 

But when the Goblins arrived they looked 
at the table with dismay. “Are not they go- 
ing to have anything to eat?” they asked one 
another, seating themselves at the table and 
looking with anxious eye. 

Not a word did they, say to the Queen about 
the beautiful cloth, and she found that it was 
quite wasted on the greedy little Goblins. 


THE REVENGE OF THE GNOMES 37 

There were so many Goblins that the Fairies 
were obliged to spread a table on the ground 
for themselves, and when the rabbits appeared 
with the food the Goblins jumped up and 
helped themselves before the rabbits could 
serve them. 

At last the Queen, seeing that it was of no 
use to have waiters for the Goblins, told the 
rabbits to put the ice cream and cake and 
lemonade and all the nice things on the table 
and let the Goblins help themselves. 

The bad Goblins spoiled the beautiful cloth 
the spider had taken so much trouble to weave ; 
they spilled the lemonade and they crumbled 
the cake and the poor Queen was in despair. 

The Goblins, not getting the food quick 
enough to suit them, had climbed on the table, 
which, you remember, was spread on a rock. 
Now, this rock did not have any moss on it, 
and it happened that it was one of the doors 
to the home of the Gnomes. 

The Gnomes are little brown men and they 
hide under the leaves and sticks that are so 
near the color of themselves that they cannot 
be seen, so they had been watching all that 
went on at the party, and, when they saw the 
Goblins on top of one of their rocks, part of 


38 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

their number hurried into the earth and opened 
the stone where the Goblins were. 

Some of the Goblins were quick enough to 
escape, but most of them went into the ground, 
and all the cake and candy and ice cream with 
them. 

The Queen and her Fairies jumped up and 
looked arotmd. Everything was changed and 
the Fairies shivered as they looked. 

The trees were brown and the bushes and 
the leaves were falling from the trees, making 
the ground look as though it had a brown 
carpet over it. 

The air was frosty and the poor little Fairies 
looked about in amazement at the dreary 
scene before them. The Goblins that escaped 
were running around and calling on the Queen 
to help them rescue their brothers. 

‘‘It is all your fault,” they told her. “If 
you had asked the Gnomes to your party this 
would not have happened. Now you must 
help us to get our brothers out of the power of 
those bad Gnomes. 

“What shall I do?” asked the poor Queen. 
She felt that her party had been a failure and 
thought if she had asked, the Gnomes it could 
not have been worse. 


THE REVENGE OF THE GNOMES 39 

Just then a Goblin came running toward 
them. He had been sent by the Gnomes. 
They told him to say that his brothers would 
all be held prisoners until the Fairies sent them 
all the ice cream they wanted. 

The Fairies and the Goblins hurried to the 
kitchen in the hollow, but it was empty The 
squirrels and the rabbits had hurried off when 
they felt the frosty air and saw everything 
turning brown. 

“What is to be done?” asked the Goblins. 
“You ought to help us,” they told the Queen 
again. “If we had not come to your party we 
should not have gotten into trouble.” 

The Queen could not resist replying to this 
remark the second time. “If your brothers 
and you had not climbed on the table, but 
kept your seats, as well-behaved Goblins 
should, you would not have been in need of 
help. 

“We must go to work,” she said to her 
Fairies. “Fold your wings and pin up your 
skirts. We must make ice cream for those 
wicked Gnomes.” 

They worked all night, and just before it 
was light the Goblins carried ice cream in nut 
shells to the rocks of the Gnomes, and by and 


40 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

by the captured Goblins came out and joined 
their comrades. 

“We lost our supper/’ said the Goblins to 
the Fairies, “and you should give us our 
breakfast. We are himgry. If it had not 
been for your party we should not have lost 
our supper.” 

This was more than the poor tired Queen and 
her Fairies could bear. They took their wands 
from under their wings and, waving them, they 
flew toward the Gnomes. 

Little sparks darted from the wands, and 
every time a spark touched a Goblin it left 
a little red mark, and at the same time it 
pricked them. 

Such tumbling and scampering you never 
saw as the Goblins tried to get away, and when 
a Goblin that had a red spot on his face meets 
a Fairy he hides or runs, for he knows that she 
will point him out as one of the greedy Goblins 
who tried to make the Fairies cook their break- 
fast for them. 



THE LITTLE CHINA SHEPHERDESS 



N the parlor mantel of a farmhouse stood 


a little China Shepherdess. In one 
hand she held a gilt crook and with the other 
she shaded her eyes and gazed far away. 
Probably she was looking for her sheep. Her 
dress was of red and green, and it was trimmed 
with gilt. Her boots were also gilt. 

On the other end of the mantel stood a 
little china Flute Player. He was dressed in 
red and white, and his flute was gilt and his 
boots were red. He held his flute to his lips 
in a very jaunty manner, but his eyes were on 
the little Shepherdess. He had been in love 


42 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

with her for a long time, but never a look did 
she give him. 

China Cat stood near the Flute Player, and 
one day she heard him sigh. 

“Why do you sigh?” she asked him. He 
shook his head, but did not answer. “I 
know,” said the Cat; “you are in love with 
the Shepherdess, and she will not look at 
you. Now, let me tell you how to manage. 
First, you must stop looking at her. She 
knows that you are always gazing in her 
direction.” 

The Flute Player shook his head again and 
said, “I cannot help looking at her, she is 
so pretty and I love her so dearly.” 

“But you must,” said China Cat. “There 
is the Flower Girl on the center table. Look 
at her and play your j oiliest tune and see what 
happens.” 

So the little Flute Player took China Cat’s 
advice and began to play a lively air. He 
smiled at the little Flower Girl, who smiled in 
return and made him a curtsey. Then she 
began to dance, keeping time to his music. 
The Flute Player commenced to dance as he 
played, and China Cat moved her head from 
side to side. The little Shepherdess tapped on 


THE LITTLE CHINA SHEPHERDESS 43 

the mantel with her gilt boot and looked tow- 
ard the Flute Player. But he was gazing at 
the Flower Girl, and for the first time she 
thought him rather good to look at. 

“I cannot see what there is about that 
Flower Girl to attract him,” said the Shepherd- 
ess; ”she hasn’t a bit of color about her; she 
is as white as a piece of cloth ; even her fiowers 
are white.” 

By and by the little Shepherdess began 
to dance and she moved toward the end of 
the mantel where the Flute Player stood. 
China Cat rubbed against the Flute Player’s 
leg. 

'‘Look,” she said, “but be careful she does 
not catch you; the Shepherdess is coming this 
way.” 

His heart beat very fast, but he kept on 
playing and fixed his eyes on the little Flower 
Girl. But the Shepherdess did not come any 
nearer than the middle of the mantel, and not 
once did she look at him. By and by it was 
dark and the Flute Player could not see the 
Flower Girl, so he stopped playing and his 
heart was heavy again. 

China Cat, however, was bound to make a 
match between the Shepherdess and the Flute 


44 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Player, and she walked over to the little 
Shepherdess and asked, Don’t you think that 
he plays well?” 

“Who?” asked the artful little Shepherdess. 

“The handsome Flute Player,” said China 
Cat. 

“Oh, I have not thought much about it,” 
answered the Shepherdess. 

“Wouldn’t you like to hear him play again? 
said China Cat. “It would cheer us up, the 
room is so dark.” 

Just then the moonlight streamed in the 
window and lighted the room. The little 
Shepherdess looked into the distance again and 
said she thought it would be nice to hear the 
music. So China Cat trotted over to the 
Flute Player. 

“She wants to hear you play,” she said, 
“and I think you can win her.” 

The Flute Player began playing soft music 
and walking toward the little Shepherdess. 
The music was so sweet and sad that by the 
time he reached her side she was wiping her 
eyes. He stole one arm around her waist and 
told her not to cry, that he would play a jolly 
tune for her. 

“No, those are the tunes you play for the 


THE LITTLE CHINA SHEPHERDESS 45 

Flower Girl,” she said, hanging her head. 
do not want you to play them for me.” 

“I did not play any tunes for the Flower 
Girl,” he said, '‘they were all for you.” 

"But you looked at her all the time,” said 
the now humble little Shepherdess. 

"I was thinking of you,” he replied. "Let 
us sit on the end of the mantel and I will play 
to you. What would you like to hear?” 

"Play something sad,” said the little Shep- 
herdess, for, like all girls, she wanted to cry 
when she was happiest. 

"There,” said the Cat, curling herself up for 
a nap, "I am glad that is settled. She never 
would have given in if he had not looked at the 
Flower Girl. These girls are queer creatures,” 
she said, closing her eyes. 

4 



HOW THE BUTTERCUP GREW YELLOW 



ONG, long ago it is told that the flowers 


were all white and that each received its 


color by some magic power. 

The little Daisy, with its yellow eye, re- 
ceived its golden center when the angry elves 
pelted the little Fairies with sunbeams. 

The Daisy grew to be very proud of her 
yellow eye and thought it showed off to per- 
fection her pure white rim. One day she was 
looking about the field where she grew and saw 
the little White Cups growing all about her in 
abundance. 

‘‘There is too much white in this field,” she 
told the other Daisies. “Our beautiful white 


HOW THE BUTTERCUP GREW YELLOW 47 

borders would show off much better if the 
White Cups were golden.” 

^‘But perhaps the White Cups do not wish 
to become golden,” said her sisters. 

'‘Oh, but we do, dear Daisies,” said the 
White Cups all in chorus; “we have always 
wanted to be a beautiful yellow like your eyes, 
but we thought you would not like to have 
us that color, as we have to live in the same 
field.”* 

“Oh yes, we would,” said the Daisy, “and 
I am sure the fields will look much more beau- 
tiful with you a golden color than white; be- 
sides that, we shall be seen to better advantage ; 
so both of us will gain by the change.” 

“But who will help us to change our color? ” 
asked the White Cups. 

The daisy thought a long time, and at 
length she said: “You might get the Goblins 
to color you, but the thing is to get them to 
do it. They are such queer little fellows that if 
they thought they were bothering the Fairies 
they would do it quick enough; but if we ask 
them to make you yellow that we all may look 
more beautiful they would only laugh and run 
off.” 

‘ ‘ Why can’t we make them think they would 


48 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

make the Fairies angry if they made us 
golden?” asked the White Cups; '‘I am sure 
we can find a way.” 

'‘That would be the very thing,” said the 
Daisy, "but what do you propose to do? ” 

"We will ask the Fairies when they come 
into the fields to-night for their frolic,” said 
the White Cups. 

That night when the Fairies came flying 
over the field the White Cups called to them 
and told them what they wanted. 

"Oh, that will be beautiful,” said the Fairy 
Queen, "and we can fool the Goblins easy 
enough, as you shall see.” 

The Fairy Queen called her Fairies around 
her and whispered so low that the field flowers 
could not hear what she said, but they heard 
the Fairies laugh as they flew away, and each 
alighted on a little White Cup and began to 
sing. 

“We love you, little White Cup, Our Lady of the 
Field; 

We will watch o’er you and keep you and from all 
danger shield; 

You are prettier than the Daisy with her yellow eye 
so bright, 

You are like a waxen blossom in the pale moonlight.” 


HOW THE BUTTERCUP GREW YELLOW 49 

Over and over they sang the verse as they 
leaned over and kissed the little Cups, and by 
and by from out of the woods came the Goblins, 
hopping and jumping like leaves before the 
wind. 

'‘Here they are,^^ they said, when they saw 
the Fairies. “Listen and hear what they are 
singing.” 

When they heard the Fairies^ pretty love 
song to the little White Cup the Goblins 
kicked up their heels and laughed, each laying 
a tiny finger beside his nose as he winked at 
his brother. 

Off they scampered to the woods again, and 
the Fairies kept on singing their song, while 
the Daisy watched with its yellow eye, wonder- 
ing how her cousin, the White Cup, would be 
made the color for which she had wished. 

By and by the Goblins came back, but this 
time they carried bags over their shoulders and 
they crept carefully through the grass. 

The Fairies saw them all the time, but of 
course they pretended not to, and when the 
Goblins were quite near the Queen said: 
“Come, my children; leave your best-loved 
fiower for to-night. To-morrow you shall 
come again.” 


50 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

As they were flying away they glanced back, 
and in the moonlight they saw the Goblins 
hard at work over each little White Cup. 

When the morning sun awoke he opened 
wide his eyes, for all over the field among the 
Daisies he beheld little Golden Cups nodding 
gaily at their cousins with the golden eyes. 

The next night when the Fairies came flying 
through the fields they saw the Yellow Cups. 
“You are more beautiful than ever,” they said 
to the Golden Cups, “and we will call you our 
Golden Cups, but you must be known as the 
Buttercups or the Goblins will discover our 
trick and make you white again.” 

The Buttercups thanked the Fairies and 
told them they would be glad to be their cups 
whenever they gave a banquet and that never 
would they let the Goblins know the Fairies 
had fooled them. 

So they bloom among the Daisies in the 
fields and are called Buttercups, but they 
know to the Fairies they are the little Golden 
Cups, and the Goblins wonder why the Fairies 
always seem so happy when they fly near the 
Buttercup and find it changed. 

The Fairies are too wise to let the Goblins 
know how they fooled them and gained for 


HOW THE BUTTERCUP GREW YELLOW 51 

the Buttercups the very color that they want- 
ed, but it is rather hard sometimes not to tell 
them when the little Goblins scamper about 
and try to upset their plans. 

The Fairy Queen has taught them that 
Silence is golden,” and they know their Queen 
is always right. 



WAS IT THE FIELD FAIRY? 

J ACK and his sister Nina were two little 
orphans who had to beg from door to door 
for their food and a place to sleep. 

One day a man named Simon told them if 
they would work for him he would give them 
a home. 

Jack and Nina thought Simon must be a 
very kind-hearted man to offer them a home, 
so they worked just as hard as they could to 
repay him. 

But in this they were mistaken, for Simon 
was a very greedy, hard-hearted man and only 
offered to take the children that he might get 
their work for nothing. 


WAS IT THE FIELD FAIRY? 


53 


Jack did all the chores about the farm and 
Nina took care of the house, although they were 
both much too small to do such hard work. 

In return Simon gave them a place to sleep 
on the floor of the attic and very little to eat. 

If he had Nina cook meat for his dinner 
he would sit by the stove and watch that she 
did not eat any of it, and when he had eaten 
all the meat he would leave the bones and 
gristle for poor little Jack and Nina, who were 
half starved. 

One day Simon told Jack he was going to 
sell the big Brindle Cow to the butcher and 
that he was to drive her the next day to the 
town, a few miles away. 

Jack and Nina were very fond of Brindle 
Cow and wept bitterly when they heard this. 
They begged Simon not to let the butcher 
have her, but he told them he would not listen 
to any such silly chatter and for Jack to be 
off the next morning bright and early. 

N^a put her arms around Brindle Cow and 
cried when Jack was ready to lead her away 
and watched them down the road; but her 
tears blinded her so she could not see far, and 
she went back to get Simon’s breakfast with a 
sad heart. 


54 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

When Jack came to the woods he led Brindle 
Cow to a stream to drink, and while he sat 
on the bank, waiting, he was surprised to see 
a Fairy slip out of a lily as it opened. 

'‘I thought you were never coming,” said 
the little creature. 

Jack thought it was to him she was speaking, 
and while he tried to find his tongue, which 
clung to his mouth, he was so surprised, 
Brindle Cow answered. 

“We had to wait for daylight, you know,” 
she said. 

“Yes, I know; but the sun will soon be up, 
and I must get home before that,” said the 
Fairy. “ Now what can I do for you? ” 

“Save my life! I am on the way to the 
butcher now,” replied Brindle Cow. 

“You told me that day I did not eat the 
field flower in which you were sleeping that 
you would help me if ever I was in need of 
help,” said Brindle Cow. 

“Last night I saw one of your sisters and 
told her my sad plight. The Field Flower 
Fairy would help me if I could only find her, ” 
I said. 

“‘Oh! She will be by the stream in the 
wood. She sits in a lily until it is time to go 


WAS IT THE FIELD FAIRY? 55 

home in the morning. I will tell her/ she 
said.” 

‘‘Of course I will help you,” said the Field 
Fairy. “I will change you into anything you 
like. What shall it be?” 

“There is another thing, good Field Fairy,” 
said Brindle Cow. “This poor boy will be 
punished if I am not carried to the butcher 
and the money he gets carried back to Simon. 
This boy and his sister have been very kind 
to me. They never forgot to bring me water 
and gave me salt many times when their 
master did not know it. I should not like 
to get them into trouble, even to save my 
life.” 

“Oh, please do not mind us,” said Jack, 
who at last was able to speak. “Nina and I 
will not mind being punished if only you can 
escape the butcher.” 

“I have thought of a plan,’\said the Fairy, 
“that will save you from the butcher, and will 
not cause your two friends the least harm, 
either. It is this: 

“Instead of changing you into some other 
shape, why not change your master into a kind 
and good man?” 

“Oh, that would be best of all,” said Jack, 


56 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

“that is, if Brindle Cow does not object to 
remaining a cow.’' 

“I would rather be a cow if I can be sure 
I am going to live,” replied Brindle Cow. 
“But you can understand, of course, there can 
be no joy in life for me with that butcher 
staring me in the face.” 

“Well, that is all settled, then,” replied the 
Fairy, “and though the sun is getting well 
up I think I can get to your master without 
letting the old Sun Man see me, for it is cool 
and shady along the road to the farm. You 
two wait here and see what happens.” 

Jack wondered what the Field Fairy in- 
tended to do, but he would not be surprised 
now at anything, so he began to pick some 
berries, for he had not had his breakfast, and 
now Brindle Cow was sure she was not going 
to the butcher. So she began to eat the 
sweet grass by the stream. 

Jack thought she might speak again and he 
patted her sides and nose, but the only an- 
swer Brindle Cow made was to rub her nose 
against him and moo. 

After a while Jack heard some one calling 
his name and running down the road. It was 
Nina. “Oh, I am so glad I have found you!” 


WAS IT THE FIELD FAIRY? 


57 


she said. ^‘Come quickly; something has 
happened to Simon.” 

Jack let Brindle Cow take care of herself 
and hurried after Nina, wondering what the 
Fairy had done to Simon. 

But it seemed that Simon had brought on 
his trouble himself by trying to save the wood 
that morning when Nina told him she needed 
more wood for the fire. Instead of giving 
her more wood he had poured on some oil 
and the fiame had blazed up and burnt him. 

When Jack and Nina reached the farm- 
house Simon was on the floor, groaning with 
pain. 

Forgetting all the unkindness they had re- 
ceived at his hands. Jack and Nina lifted him 
from the floor and placed him on his bed. 
Then they did all they could to relieve his 
sufferings. 

Nina bathed his face and hands and Jack 
bandaged them, and by and by he fell asleep. 
When he awoke he asked for some gruel, and 
then he remembered Brindle Cow. 

^'Poor creatme!” said Simon. ''I wish I 
had kept her even if she was getting old; but 
it is too late now, for, of course, the butcher 
has her.” 


58 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Just then, ''Moo, moo!’' was heard outside, 
and for the first time since he left her at the 
stream Jack thought of Brindle Cow. 

“Why, there she is now!” he said. “I did 
not get to the butcher’s this morning because 
Nina called me before I had gone beyond the 
woods. 

“I’ll never sell her,” said Simon. “Go out. 
Jack, and give her a good dinner, and to-night 
see that she has a nice bed of straw in the 
barn.” 

That day for dinner Simon told Nina to have 
a good meat stew and that Nina and Jack 
were to eat all they wanted. 

Jack told Nina what had happened at the 
stream in the woods and asked her if she 
thought the Fairy had an3rthing to do with 
the accident that happened to Simon. 

“Of course not,” said Nina. “Fairies al- 
ways do good, not bad things, and, besides, 
Simon must have been burnt at the very 
time you saw the Fairy, and I wonder if you 
really did see a Fairy, after all. Are you sure 
you did not fall asleep and dream it all?” 

Jack was quite sure he did not dream it, 
but never again did Brindle Cow speak — at 
least. Jack never heard her if she did. 


WAS IT THE FIELD FAIRY? 


59 


But when Simon recovered from his burns 
and was quite well again something did hap- 
pen, and whether the Field Fairy and Brindle 
Cow had anything to do with it Jack and 
Nina never knew. 

Simon was a changed man, that was sure. 
He would not let Nina do the work any more, 
but sent both of the children to school. He 
fixed up the house and bought new furniture, 
and, best of all, he bought nice clothing for 
Jack and Nina. 

^‘And if you don’t mind,” said Simon to 
Jack and Nina one day, wish you would 
call me Uncle Simon.” 

He even bought a nice horse and pretty 
willow carriage for the children to drive to 
school; in fact, everybody thought Simon 
must have lost his mind, he was so changed. 

“It must be the work of the Field Fairy,” 
said Jack when he and Nina were talking over 
what the neighbors said about Simon. “She 
said she would change him into a kind and 
good man.” 

“Perhaps she came and found him burnt 
and thought she would wait and see what hap- 
pened to him,” said Nina, “but I think you 
fell asleep that morning. Jack, while you were 


6o SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


waiting for Brindle Cow to drink at the 
stream.” 

“Brindle Cow saw the Fairy. Didn’t you, 
Brindle?” asked Jack, as Brindle Cow came up 
to the stone wall where Jack and Nina stood. 

Brindle Cow looked over the wall straight 
at Jack and answered, “Mo-o-o.” 

“It does not matter. Jack,” said Nina, with 
a laugh, as she patted Brindle Cow on the 
nose. “It has all turned out so well and 
Uncle Simon could not be kinder or nicer to 
us now if he were our father. Sometimes I 
think it is all because when he was so sick and 
helpless that we were kind to him and did all 
we could even though he had almost starved 
us and made us work so hard. I think he is 
sorry for it and is trying to do all he can now 
to make up for his unkindness and make us 
forget it.” 

“Perhaps you are right, Nina,” said Jack, 
“so we will forget it, but I am sure about the 
Field Fairy, and Brindle Cow knows it is true, 
for it was the Fairy who saved her from the 
butcher.” 

But all the answer Jack could get from 
Brindle Cow was “M-o-o-o!” 



THE FROGS AND THE FAIRIES 

I N a pond in a dell lived a big family of 
frogs, and one day when the sun was shin- 
ing all the young bullfrogs came up out of 
the water and hopped on the bank. I think 
it would be good fun to see what is in the dell 
beside this pond,” said Billy Bull, who was a 
young and inquisitive frog. 

‘‘What do you fellows say to a lark to-night 
by the light of the moon?” 

“We’ll go, we’ll go, Billy Bull,” said all 
the other young frogs in chorus. 

“Better stay home, better stay home,” 
croaked old Grandfather Bullfrog from his 

seat on a stump by the edge of the pond. 

5 


62 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


^‘Oh, hear old grandfather croaking!” said 
Billy Bull; “he never went out of this pond 
in all his days, and what does he know of the 
dell?” 

“Better stay home, better stay home,” 
croaked Grandfather Frog. 

“You can. Grandfather Frog, if you like, 
but we young frogs are going for a lark to- 
night, and when we come back we will tell 
you what is in the dell,” said Billy Bull. 

That night when the moon was up and 
shining through the trees, out of the pond 
leaped all the young froggies. 

“Better stay home, better stay home,” 
croaked Grandfather Frog from his seat on 
the stump, but the young froggies only 
laughed as grandfather’s warning followed 
them through the dell — “Better stay home, 
better stay home.” 

It happened that the Fairies were holding 
a party that night, and when Billy Bull and 
all the other young frogs hopped and leaped 
into the middle of the dell they saw the 
bright lights of the fireflies’ lanterns. 

“Looks to me like all the fireflies in the 
world had gathered for us to feast on,” said 
Billy Bull. “What luck for us.” 


THE FROGS AND THE FAIRIES 63 

Away off they could still hear Grandfather 
Frog croaking his warning: “Better stay 
home, better stay home.” But it was no 
warning to the young froggies; they only saw 
the fireflies and the feast in store for them. 

The froggies had never seen the Fairies be- 
fore and they thought they, too, were little 
insects, so, without stopping to think or look 
closer into the midst of the Fairy revel, in 
leaped Billy Bull and all his cousins. 

But the Fairies were as quick as the frogs, 
and no sooner had they leaped than up went 
all the fairy wands, and there stood each frog 
still and stiff. They were not able to move; 
they could only stare and listen. 

“What are these creatures that dare to 
disturb us?” asked the Queen. 

“Your Majesty, they are frogs,” said a fire- 
fly, “and I expect they intended to eat us.” 

“Eat the lantern bearers of the fairies!” 
said the Queen. “They shall suffer for this.” 

“Off with a toe on each front foot, and then 
perhaps these frogs will stay at home and not 
hop about at night. Where do they live?” 
asked the Queen. 

“In the pond at the end of the dell,” said 
the fireflies. 


64 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

^‘Send them home/’ said the Queen, “and 
every time they wander far from their pond 
they shall lose a toe.” 

Down on the foot of the froggies went the 
fairy wands, and where the frogs had five toes 
there remained only four on each of their front 
feet, and then with their wands on the heads 
of the froggies the fairies turned them around 
and drove them back to their pond. 

“Better stayed home, better stayed home,” 
croaked their Grandfather Frog as the young 
froggies leaped sadly into the pond and buried 
themselves in the mud at the bottom. 

And that was the way it is said frogs came 
to have five toes on each of their hind feet 
and only four toes on each front foot. If they 
had listened to their grandfather’s warning 
they would still have their other toes. 



JACK THE PREACHER 

O NE morning in very early springtime the 
big Evergreen Trees began to talk 
about the part they took in telling all the 
woodland flowers that it was spring. 

“Why, if we were not here,'’ said one Ever- 
green Tree, “who would awake these sleepy 
springtime flowers to their duty? I should 
like you to tell me!” 

“You speak truly, brother,” said another 
tree. “We are ever green and need no 
awakening to our duty; but for us the woods 
would be a sorry-looking place in the sum- 
mer. Those lazy crocuses would sleep right 
on and on! ” 


66 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


‘‘Yes, and the little violets never would 
dare show their timid little heads,’' said 
another Evergreen Tree, “when the soft winds 
begin to run through the woods. It is 
then we call forth to all sleeping flowers and 
shrubs and bushes: ‘Awake! It is time to 
get up!’ ” 

“And who would tell the Bee summer was 
on its way?” said another Tree. “He would 
never get his work started at all if it were not 
for us. How lucky the flowers and all the 
woodland things are that we are here to tell 
them when to get up!” 

So the Evergreens talked and bragged about 
how they preached Springtime to the wood- 
land folk, and as they talked all the spring 
flowers awoke and the insects began lazily 
to stretch their wings, but it was not because 
of what the big Evergreen Trees were saying; 
no, it was because they had heard the voice 
of the little woodland preacher. 

And who was he, do you think? Why, no 
other than Jack-in-the-pulpit, who gives a 
talk every spring to all the woodland dwellers 
on just how to bloom and how to buzz and 
when to do it. 

Every night for ever so long before it is 


JACK THE PREACHER 67 

time for the crocus or the violet or any early 
spring flower to bloom, when it is the magic 
hour the Fairies come running through the 
woods and touch Jack on his nodding little 
head under the dry leaves and up he pops and 
begins to preach. 

So when the flowers and bees and things 
heard the big Evergreen Trees talking they 
nodded to each other and laughed. '‘Isn’t it 
funny to hear them?” said a beautiful yellow 
crocus. ‘ ‘ Those tall trees know nothing about 
the real truth of things, do they?” 

‘‘Fancy thinking they awaken us!” said 
another flower. ‘‘Why, they themselves are 
asleep. They get so used to winter they stand 
still all the time, but who is to tell them the 
truth about our Preacher Jack? The Ever- 
green Trees never bend or sway to one side 
or the other far enough to see the beauties of 
our woodland spring. They only know what 
the winds tell them.” 

‘‘Let them think what they like,” said a 
little bush of pretty blossoms. “It does not 
hurt Jack-in-the-pulpit if the Evergreens think 
they are the preachers of the woods, for all 
the spring and summer flowers know that Jack 
has always been our preacher and the Ever- 


68 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

greens haven’t any pulpit to preach from. 
Only they do not know it.” 

And so the sleepy old Evergreens thought 
they were the ones who awakened the flowers 
and preached to them about their duty, and 
no one ever told them about little Jack-in-the- 
pulpit, who always has and always will preach 
about the spring and summer to all the wood- 
land dwellers. 



MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 

M r. coon and Mr. Possum lived near 
each other in the woods, and one day 
they decided to give a supper the first bright 
moonlight night. 

‘'It will be much easier for us to provide 
the supper together,” said Mr. Coon, “because 
we are bachelors and we can help each other.” 

But the real reason was that Mr. Coon 
knew that Mr. Possum had some new tin 
spoons and all the Coon family love shiny 
things. He thought he might be able to slip 
one or two tin spoons into his pocket and 
never be found out, because there would be 
so many guests that Mr. Possum would not 


70 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

know which one to suspect when he found it 
out. 

Mr. Possum was delighted to do as Mr. 
Coon suggested, and they began making out 
a list of guests to be invited. 

Of course there was Mr. Fox and Mr. 
Squirrel and Jack Rabbit and Mr. Owl, who 
were all bachelors like themselves; so they 
decided they would not ask any of the mar- 
ried folks, but call it a bachelor party. 

“Old James Crow, who lives in the tree 
near me, will think he should be invited, too, 
I suppose,'’ said Mr. Possum; “but he is such 
a quarrelsome old fellow I hate to ask him." 

“No, don't ask him," said Mr. Coon, 
thinking of Mr. Possum's new tin spoons and 
remembering that the Crow family were very 
like his own in the matter of liking bright and 
glittering things. “He will neVer know we 
have a party. He goes to bed at sunset, you 
know." 

So it was decided that old James Crow was 
not to be invited and that only the bachelors 
of the wood were to be asked. 

A few nights after this the moon shone 
brightly and over to Mr. Possum's house they 
all went. 


MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 71 

Now it happened that they began to sing, 
when they all sat down to the table, that they 
all were jolly good fellows and something 
about being single was a life of bliss, and 
another about poor married man, and they 
made so much noise that they awoke old 
James Crow, who was sound asleep in his 
bed. 

“What is that noise? “ he said, jumping up 
and listening; but when he heard it again old 
Mr. Crow got out of bed and put his head out 
of the window. 

“Oh, we are jolly bachelor boys,’’ came 
from Mr. Possum’s house and floated right up 
to Mr. Crow’s window. 

“Something is going on that I do not know 
about,’’ said old Mr. Crow, pulling in his 
head and taking off his night cap. “I must 
find out what it is. I should say that the 
noise came from Mr. Possum’s house. I’ll go 
right down there and see.’’ 

And he did, arriving just as the supper was 
being put on the table; and while Mr. Crow 
did not go to the door, he had no trouble at 
all in looking in through the shutters, for old 
Mr. Crow was very clever in the art of spying. 

There was a big fat turkey, but Mr. Crow 


72 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

did not care about that — 'that is, he was not 
crazy about turkey. He could eat it if there 
was nothing better, but when the big dish of 
green corn was brought in Mr. Crow began to 
think he had been slighted and that he should 
have been asked to the party. 

Jack Rabbit stood up in his chair so he 
would be tall enough to be seen and held up 
a crisp radish. ‘‘Here is to our hosts, Mr. 
Coon and Mr. Possum,” he said, taking a bite 
of the radish. 

“So,” thought old Mr. Crow, “Mr. Possum 
is giving this supper and he is a neighbor.” 

Then somebody began to sing, “We are the 
bachelors of the wood; we wouldn’t be mar- 
ried if we could.” 

And then Mr. Crow was good and mad. 
“Giving a bachelor party, are they,” he 
thought, “and they left me out. I am a 
bachelor just as much as any of those fellows. 
I’ll pay them back for slighting me if it takes 
me a hundred years.” 

Just then the ice cream was brought in and 
Mr. Crow espied the new tin spoons and his 
eyes shone with longing to have one or two or 
three or as many as he could get, but how 
could he get them? If only he could scare 


MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 


73 


them and make them all run he would get 
them easy enough. 

Then an idea came to Mr. Crow and he 
flew away. ^‘ITl have those spoons before I 
sleep again to-night, and get my revenge, too, 
or my name is not James Crow,’' he said, and 
out of the woods he went. 

Mr. Crow flew straight for Mr. Man’s 
farm, and you. know crows can fly very 
straight, it is said. 

When he arrived it was all still ; not a sound 
could he hear but Mr. Dog breathing very 
hard, but it was Mr. Dog that Mr. Crow 
wanted, so it was easy to And him by follow- 
ing the noise. 

Mr. Crow tapped on the side of Mr. Dog’s 
house, for his door was open and out bounded 
Mr. Dog with a growl. 

“Hush! don’t make a noise,” said Mr. 
Crow. “Are you free to run over to the 
woods? Yes, I see you are,” he said, looking 
at Mr. Dog’s collar and seeing there was no 
chain fastened to it. 

“Do you want some fun?” he asked Mr. 
Dog. 

Mr. Dog began to jump about and wag his 
tail. He was always ready for fun, he told 


74 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Mr. Crow. “But where is it at this time of 
night?” he asked. 

“You come with me,” said Mr. Crow, “and 
if I do not show you more sport in a minute 
than you ever had in an hour hunting with 
Mr. Man, I’ll eat all the spoons.” 

“What spoons?” asked Mr. Dog, standing 
still and dropping his tail. “I don’t want to 
run after spoons.” 

“Oh, I did not mean spoons at all,” said 
Mr. Crow. “I should have said I would eat 
my hat, but I promise you there will be fun 
and plenty of it. Mr. Coon and Mr. Possum 
are giving a supper in the woods, and their 
guests are Mr. Squir’ ’ — 

“Tell me no more; I do not care about the 
guests. Hurry! Hurry! Where are they?” 
said Mr. Dog, dancing about so fast that Mr. 
Crow could not turn quick enough to keep 
up with him. 

“Come along and I will show you,” he said, 
and off he flew, keeping close to the ground so 
Mr. Dog could follow him. 

The supper was still going on when they 
arrived; Mr. Crow flew to a tree close by, for 
he knew Mr. Dog could manage alone now 
that he had shown him the place. 


MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 


75 


Mr. Dog did not stop to knock ; he bounded 
in through the window, taking off a shutter 
as he went. 

Out of the back door, out of the front door, 
and out of the windows went the guests and 
their hosts, and after them, barking, went Mr. 
Dog. 

“They are jolly fellows, all right, now,’’ 
croaked Mr. Crow, as he watched them out of 
sight, “and now my party begins.” 

Mr. Crow went in and took all the spoons 
from the deserted supper table and carried 
them off to his house. He hid them under the 
bed and then he got in and went to sleep. 

He did not even bother to go over to see 
Mr. Dog the next day, so little did he care 
how the chase came out. He knew Mr. Dog 
did not catch Mr. Possum or Mr. Coon, be- 
cause he saw them both the next day ; but that 
was all he knew and all he cared, for those were 
the two he had in his plan for revenge. 

The next day when Mr. Coon was out — 
and Mr. Crow made sure he was not only 
away from home but out of the woods — Mr. 
Crow took all the spoons but one under his 
wing and went over to Mr. Coon’s house and 
got in the cellar window. 


76 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

He went upstairs and put those spoons be- 
tween Mr. Coon’s feather beds. Mr. Coon 
had two fat feather beds, always having 
plenty of feathers on hand as he did. 

Then Mr. Crow went over to Mr. Possum’s 
house and found him sitting in the doorway, 
looking very sad. 

^‘What is the matter with you. Friend 
Possum?” asked Mr. Crow in the most 
friendly tone he could master. '‘Don’t you 
feel well?” 

“I have lost all my new tin spoons,” said 
Mr. Possum. “Some one stole them, I am 
afraid.” He did not want Mr. Crow to know 
about the party, so he did not tell him any 
more. 

“That is too bad,” said Mr. Crow. “Were 
they anything like those Mr. Coon has? I 
saw him cleaning some very handsome ones 
this morning as I passed his window.” 

“I did not know he had any spoons,” said 
Mr. Possum. “He has never told me he 
had any tin spoons. Are you sure you saw 
them?” 

“Just as sure as I am that I see you now, 
Mr. Possum,” said Mr. Crow. “But, of 
course, they would not have anything to do 


MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 


77 


with your spoons. I was wondering if his 
were like yours. If they are I could take a 
look at them, and then if in my travels I saw 
any like them I would know they were yours 
and bring them back to you. I am very 
clever at finding things that are lost.” 

Mr. Possum did not seem inclined to say 
anything, and Mr. Crow went on: ‘‘Why 
don’t you come along with me to Mr. Coon’s 
house and get him to show us his spoons. I 
am anxious to help you if I can. I know how 
I should feel if I lost some handsome tin 
spoons.” 

This seemed to make Mr. Possum interested, 
so he walked along with Mr. Crow, who was 
so anxious to get to Mr. Coon’s he could 
hardly keep from flying. Mr. Coon had just 
returned when they arrived and was unlocking 
his door. 

“I lost all my new tin spoons last night,” 
said Mr. Possum. “Mr. Crow said he saw 
you cleaning some, and if they were like mine 
he would like to take a look at them and then 
he might find mine ; but I did not know you 
had any spoons.” 

Mr. Crow held his head very high and looked 
sideways while Mr. Possum was talking, but 


78 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

out of the corner of one eye he could see Mr. 
Coon, and he saw him turn around and look 
at him very angrily. 

“Mr. Crow said I had some tin spoons ?“ 
he said. “He has sharper eyes than I thought 
and I always knew he had sharp eyes, par- 
ticularly for bright things, but how he could 
see spoons in my house is more than I can 
explain, for I have no spoons.” 

“Well, of course I do not wish to cause any 
trouble,” said Mr. Crow, “but I certainly 
saw you cleaning tin spoons. An3rway, it 
will be easy to prove you have no spoons in 
the house by letting us search, and of course 
you rather would, Mr. Coon, for that will clear 
you from suspicion; that is, if we do not find 
them.” 

“Go ahead and look,” said Mr. Coon, open- 
ing the door and standing aside for them to 
enter. “ I am glad I did not take one of those 
spoons,’^ he thought to himself, for he re- 
membered that he had intended to do so if 
Mr. Dog had not come in so unexpectedly. 

Of course Mr. Crow held back and let Mr. 
Possum do all the hunting until they came 
to Mr. Coon’s bedroom, and then he said: 
“I have always heard that stolen goods are 


MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 


79 


often hidden between beds. We might look 
there first.” 

Of course they found the spoons, and when 
Mr. Coon saw them he almost fell over. 

Who put them there? I did not,” he said. 

^‘Of course you didn’t,” said Mr. Crow, 
with a smile that plainly said: ^‘You are a 
story-teller.” 

“There is one spoon missing,” said Mr. 
Possum, who had been counting the spoons. 
“I had a dozen and there are only eleven 
here.” 

“He probably ate his breakfast with that 
one,” said Mr. Crow. “Better give it up, 
Mr. Coon; we have caught you and there is 
no use- denying it now.” 

“Go ahead and find it if you can,” said Mr. 
Coon. “I did not take those spoons and I 
do not know where the other spoon is, even if 
you do, Mr. Crow.” 

“What do you mean by that?” asked Mr. 
Crow, beginning to hop about. 

“I mean that you seemed to be pretty sure 
where those spoons were,” said Mr. Coon, 
“and if I am not mistaken about the history 
of your family, they are noted for their love 
of shining things fully as much as ours.” 


8o SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

^‘Come along, said Mr. Crow to Mr. 
Possum; ‘‘we have found your spoons, and 
that is all I wanted. I cannot bother with 
this bad fellow, who now wants to make out 
I took the spoons ; but that is always the way 
with thieves — they blame it on some one else 
if they can.” 

The more Mr. Coon thought about those 
spoons the more certain he was that Mr. Crow 
had something to do with their being found 
in his house; so one night about a week after 
he went to Mr. Crow’s house and watched. 

By and by he saw the light go out, and he 
thought, after all, he was not to catch Mr. 
Crow that night; but just as he was going 
away he saw a tiny flicker of light at another 
window. Up went Mr. Coon and peeked in. 

And what do you think he saw? Mr. Crow 
sitting at a table eating bread and milk with 
Mr. Possum’s missing tin spoon. 

It did not take Mr. Coon long to run to 
Mr. Possum’s house and bring him back with 
him and show him his spoon, and then right 
through the window they jumped and grabbed 
Mr. Crow by the nape of his neck. And how 
they did shake the old thief! They did not 
stop to talk to him. 


MR. CROW GOES AND TELLS 


'‘He is not worth the breath we should 
waste,” said Mr. Coon, "and I feel sure this 
place is not a place that agrees with Mr. 
Crow’s health. He will move away, I am sure, 
where the climate will better agree with him.” 

The next day there was a to-let sign on the 
house where Mr. Crow had once lived, and 
the bachelors all met that night to discuss 
the breaking up of the party and to hear about 
the tin spoons and how they were found. 

"And it is my opinion,” said Mr. Coon, 
"that if some one were to ask Mr. Dog he 
would tell us that Mr. Crow went and told 
him about our party.” 

"But who will ask Mr. Dog?” asked Jack 
Rabbit. 

No one seemed to be interested enough to 
ask Mr. Dog, and they never knew for sure 
whether he told or not, but Mr. Coon always 
said he did. At any rate, the wood folk were 
rid of old Mr. Crow, and they were glad of it. 



DISCONTENTED DEWDROP 

O NE morning a little Dewdrop was rest- 
ing on the petal of a wild rose that grew 
beside a river. 

The sun shining on it made it glisten like a 
diamond and a lady who was passing stopped 
to admire its beauty. 

“ It is the most beautiful thing in the world/’ 
she remarked. ^‘See the colors in that tiny 
little drop. Isn’t it wonderful?” 

‘ “Wonderful,” repeated the Dewdrop when 
the lady had walked away. “If I were like 
the river I might be wonderful; it is too bad; 
here I am sitting here while the river can run 
on and on and see all the sights. It bubbles 
and babbles as it goes, and that is worth 


DISCONTENTED DEWDROP 83 

while. I have never a chance to be wonderful. 
Oh, if I were only in the river water I might be 
something.’^ 

Just then a breeze passing heard the little 
Dewdrop ’s wish. 

'‘You shall have your wish, foolish Dew- 
drop,” she said, blowing gently on the rose, 
which swayed, and off went the little Dewdrop 
into the rushing river. 

“This is like something, being a part of this 
river,” said the Dewdrop as it mingled its tiny 
drop with the running river. ‘ ‘ N ow I am worth 
admiring and can see something of the world.” 

On and on it ran with the water of the river, 
but it was no longer a Dewdrop ; it was a part 
of the river. 

“I wish I could stop for a minute so some 
one might admire me,” said the silly little 
drop, for it thought it could still be seen and 
was making all the babbling it heard as the 
river ran along. 

But no one admired it, nor did it stop. On 
went the river to a larger river, and by and 
by it came to the bay and the Dewdrop went 
rolling into it with the other water. 

“Surely I am greater now than ever and 
worth admiring,” thought the drop, but it 


84 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

heard no sweet words such a§ the lady spoke 
of the little Dewdrop on the rose by the river. 

The bay mingled at last with the ocean and 
little Dewdrop knew at last that it was no 
longer a thing to be admired for itself alone, 
but a part of the great ocean. It was com- 
pletely lost in the vastness of the mighty 
waters of which it was only a drop. 

The breeze went whispering over it, calling, 
“Little Dewdrop, little Dewdrop, where are 
vou?” 

But the drop answered never a word. It 
did not even hear the gentle voice of the 
breeze, so loud was the roar of the ocean. 

“Come away,” called a loud wind to the 
gentle breeze; “that is no place for you. I 
must blow here and make the waves high, and 
you will never find your little Dewdrop. It 
has been swallowed long ago by the ocean. 
Go back to your river and tell the other Dew- 
drops the fate of their companion.” 

The gentle breeze went away and the loud 
wind swept the ocean, making the waves high 
and the roar louder and louder. The little 
Dewdrop was there somewhere in the great 
whole, but it was lost forever in its longing to 
become great. 


DISCONTENTED DEWDROP 


85 


The gentle breeze went back to the river, 
and as she sighed around the rose where the 
discontented Dewdrop had rested she heard 
another drop say: 

‘‘ Look at the river. Isn’t it big? Here am 
I only a Dewdrop, so small no one can see me.” 

‘‘Ah, that is where you are mistaken, my 
dainty Dewdrop,” said the gentle breeze. 
“You can be seen now, but if you were to 
become a part of the river you would never be 
seen. You would lose your identity as soon 
as you mingled with the waters of the river. 
Be your own sweet self and be content with 
the part you play in this world. You are help- 
ing to make it more beautiful by your own 
dainty beauty. Do not wish to do what only 
seems a greater thing.” 

And then she told the fate of the discon- 
tented Dewdrop that had wished to become 
great and how at last it was swallowed by its 
own greatness, and its dainty beauty which 
had been so admired no longer remained. 

“Be content with the small but beautiful 
part you play in this world,” she told the drop, 
“and do not long for a greatness which may 
result in your unhappiness.” 



INQUISITIVE MR. POSSUM 

I T was Mr. Owl who gave the wood folk the 
warning by calling out one night, *‘To 
whom it may concern!’' At least the wood 
people knew that was what he meant, but 
anyone else might have thought he just cried 
‘'To whoo! To whoo!” 

So when all the animals both great and small 
had gathered around his tree he told them that 
in his opinion it was to be a very, very hard 
winter. 

That of course meant that they must begin 
right away to lay up stores for the cold, 
snowed-in days, and everyone bestirred him- 
self at once to do this. 


INQUISITIVE MR. POSSUM 


87 


Even Mrs. Rabbit, who seldom made much 
preparation for the winter days, began to do 
up preserves; all the small bunnies were sent 
out with their baskets to gather com and 
beans and beet tops and all sorts of good 
things. ‘Mf we cannot get them green,” said 
Mrs. Rabbit to her neighbor, Mrs. Squirrel, 
‘‘we can eat them stewed; but of course we 
much prefer them in their natural state.” 

Mrs. Squirrel, to encourage her neighbor in 
laying up winter stores, gave her a big basket- 
ful of walnuts which Mrs. Rabbit pickled, and 
some say those were the first walnuts ever 
pickled. 

But this story is not about pickled walnuts; 
it is about the nice preserves that Mrs. Rabbit 
put up and the accident that befell Mr. 
Possum. 

Everybody that passed Mrs. Rabbit’s home 
for many days found it hard to get by her 
door, for such spicy, nice-smelling odors as 
came through the open windows made every- 
one feel hungry. 

Mr. Possum was especially interested when 
he found that Mrs. Rabbit was, among other 
things, putting up a great deal of canned corn, 
and he decided that when it was dark he 


88 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


would just take a peek into her pantry window 
and see how many cans she had. 

Right in front of the window was a tree and 
one limb hung low enough so that Mr. Possum 
with a little care could easily swing himself 
from it and reach the pantry window. 

Now this might have been safe enough if the 
limb had been a good one, but it wasn’t, and 
when Mr. Possum ran along it, before he could 
even get ready to swing, ‘‘crackle, snap,” went 
the limb and down went Mr. Possum into a 
barrel of whitewash Mrs. Rabbit had ready 
to use on her little house. 

And that was not the worst of it. When 
he ran home, so scared he didn’t remember 
running at all after it was over, Mrs. Possum 
didn’t know him, but thought he was some 
terrible white creature come to carry off her 
children, and slammed the door right in his 
face. 

All night Mr. Possum had to sit outside, the 
whitewash dripping from his coat, and in the 
morning, bright and early, all the little Bunnies 
and Mr. and Mrs. Rabbit, as well, were stand- 
ing in front of the house, looking at him. 

Mrs. Rabbit wanted to know what he meant 
by carrying off some of her whitewash. ‘‘I 


INQUISITIVE MR. POSSUM 89 

tracked you right to your own door-yard, so 
you need not deny it,’^ she said. 

Mr. Possum did not try to deny it, for what 
was the use. He was all covered in the white 
stuff? But he did try to tell Mr. and Mrs. 
Rabbit that it was all an accident, that he was 
just running along the limb and off it broke 
and he happened to fall into the whitewash. 

Mrs. Possum had found out it was her hus- 
band by this time, of course, and she came 
out to say that what Mrs. Rabbit could think 
they wanted of her whitewash was more than 
she could tell. 

Mrs. Rabbit wiggled her nose and looked 
very wise.- ^‘Well,’’ she said, “if that is true, 
Mr. Possum, that it was all an accident, why, 
of course, that is all there is to it ; but you must 
admit that it did look suspicious.” 

Mr. Possum admitted that it did, and off 
ran the Rabbit family for home; but it was a 
long time before Mr. Possum could go abroad 
again, for the white coat he wore was to be 
plainly seen in the daytime or at night. 



WHAT THE FLOWERS TOLD MARTHA 

M artha was visiting her grandmother, 
who lived in the country. At the back 
of the farmhouse was a very large porch, and 
in the front of that a garden in which grew 
all kinds of flowers. 

One afternoon, when everyone else was tak- 
ing a nap, Martha sat on the porch. It was 
warm and a bee was buzzing around the 
flowers. Every little while -he would fly around 
Martha’s head. 

'‘I wish I had someone to play with,” 
thought Martha. “Everybody is asleep and 
I am lonesome.” 

“The flowers want you to come into the 
garden,” buzzed the bee. 


WHAT THE FLOWERS TOLD MARTHA 91 

Martha listened, for she could not believe 
the bee was really speaking to her, but she 
heard again, “The flowers want you to come 
into the garden/* 

Martha walked down the path to the Rose 
Bush. “1*11 find out if that bee is telling the 
truth,** she said. 

“I am so glad you came,** said a Rose, and 
as Martha looked it seemed that she could 
almost see the face of a little girl in its petals. 
“ I wanted some one to talk to,** said the Rose. 

“So did I,** said a Lily. 

“We all are glad to see you,** said a Tulip, 
“for we never have anyone to talk to.** 

“I never knew before that you could talk,** 
said Martha. 

“Of course we can,** said the Rose, “but 
we are tired of telling stories to one another.’* 

“Oh! can you tell stories?** asked Martha 
as she seated herself on the ground beside the 
flowers. 

“Yes, indeed!** said the Rose. “I’ll tell 
mine first.’* 

‘ ‘ Did you ever hear how the Rose happened 
to have thorns?” she asked. 

Martha said she never did, and the Rose 
said, “I will tell you.” 


92 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

“Before I bloomed here I lived in the warm 
climates, and although you may not think it 
I also lived in the land where Jack Frost dwells. 
But I love best the land where the nightingale 
lives and tells me of his love. One night when 
he was singing and telling me that my per- 
fume was the sweetest in the garden and my 
damask cheek the softest, a Thorn Bush 
which grew near and had tried many times 
to win him from me began to tell how sweet 
were his notes and how graceful his form.” 

“‘Do come and sing in my bush,’ she said, 
‘and let me show you how strong I am. You 
will be safer in my bush than on the swaying 
branches of the Rose.’ 

“But the nightingale would not leave me, 
and told the Thorn Bush it was far too bold 
and its sharp points far too treacherous. 
‘You are not so fragrant as the Rose,’ he said, 

‘ and my love is all for her.’ 

“‘You shall pay for this,’ screamed the 
Thorn Bush, angrily, ‘and you will find that 
your beautiful Rose has thorns as well as I.’ 
But the nightingale only sang lower and more 
sweetly to me, and we forgot the Thorn Bush 
in our happiness. 

“The cruel Thorn, however, did not forget 


WHAT THE FLOWERS TOLD MARTHA 93 

or forgive, and one day she twined herself 
aroimd my roots and pressed into my tender 
stems until she was a part of me. I tried to 
cry out, but her strength was greater than 
mine. That night, when the nightingale came 
to sing his love song, she raised one of her 
sharp thorns and pierced his foot. 

'' ‘You see your beautiful Rose has hidden 
thorns,’ she said, ‘and she is no more to be 
desired than I am.’ 

“‘I should be a poor lover were I not will- 
ing to suffer for the one I love,’ replied the 
nightingale as he came closer and sang to 
me even in his pain. 

“‘I will always love you,’ he said; ‘I know 
you are not to blame for the thorns you wear, 
and that my love for you brought this upon 
you. I will never leave you.’ And he sang 
to me all through the night, and in the morn- 
ing a deep, red Rose bloomed where the 
nightingale’s bleeding foot had rested, and the 
Thom Bush was more angry than ever when 
she beheld its beauty. 

“‘You shall never be free,’ she said to me; 
‘every Rose shall wear a thorn.’ 

“ The nightingale still sings to me and never 

fails to tell me of his undying love.’’ 

7 


94 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

‘‘That is a very pretty story,” said Mar- 
tha as the Rose finished, “and I am glad to 
know about that Thom, for I have wondered 
many times why a flower so beautiful as 
you had that sharp point under your soft 
leaves.” 

“Martha! Martha!” some one called from 
the doorway, and Martha jumped up. 

“ Come back to-morrow and hear my story,” 
said the Tiger Lily ; ‘ ‘ and mine, ’ ’ said the Tulip ; 
“and mine,” called out the Jonquil. 

Martha promised that she would and ran 
toward the house. 

The next day as soon as Martha foimd her- 
self alone she ran into the garden, for she was 
curious to hear the promised stories. 

The Jonquil spoke first. “My story,” it 
said, with dignity, “will be historical. I am 
a descendant from the great Narcissus family, 
and the Narcissus, as you know, is a very 
beautiful flower; it grows in wild profusion 
among the stony places along the great Medi- 
terranean and eastward to China. All that 
you may have heard, but do you know why 
Narcissus loves to be near the water?” 

Martha said she did not. 

“ I will tell you,” replied the Jonquil. “Ages 


WHAT THE FLOWERS TOLD MARTHA 95 

and ages ago Narcissus was the son of a river 
god. He was extremely vain of his extraor- 
dinary beauty, which he beheld for the first 
time in the water. He sought out all the 
pools in the woods and would spend hours 
gazing at his reflection, and at last he fell in 
love with his own image. 

“Narcissus could neither eat nor sleep, so 
fascinated did he become with his reflection. 
He would put his lips near to the water to 
kiss the lips he saw, and plunge his arms into 
it to embrace the form he loved, which, of 
course, fled at his touch, and then returned 
after a moment to mock him. 

“‘Why cannot you love me?’ he would say 
to the image; ‘the Nymphs have loved me, 
and I can see love in your eyes’; which, of 
course, he did, for he did not know he was 
gazing at his own reflection. 

“At last he pined away and died, and in the 
place of his body was foimd a beautiful flower, 
with soft white petals, nodding to its reflection 
in the water. 

“The Daffodils are also my cousins,” the 
Jonquil explained, “and descend from the 
beautiful Narcissus.” 

“That is a very pretty story,” said Martha, 


96 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

‘‘and the fate of Narcissus should teach all 
vain people a lesson.” 

The Tiger Lily told her story next. 

“Mine is not a love story,” she said; “it 
is about something I saw in far-off China be- 
fore I bloomed here. 

“In that land little girls are not so happy as 
they are here because the boys are the pride 
of the family. 

“One day a poor beggar who was faint from 
hunger and thirst lay down close beside where 
I bloomed. He groaned aloud in his misery, 
and a little girl who was passing heard him. 
She came to him and gave him water from a 
near-by stream and bathed his face. When he 
was refreshed he asked, ‘Who are you, and 
how did you happen to be here?’ 

“‘I am only a miserable daughter on her 
way to the mission,’ she replied. ‘My father 
is very poor and can provide only for his 
sons. If I can reach the mission they will 
take me in and I shall be taught many things.’ 

“The beggar only shook his head; he did 
not believe that a girl was worth even thank- 
ing, and that anyone should bother to teach 
her was past his belief, and so the little girl 
passed on. 


WHAT THE FLOWERS TOLD MARTHA 97 

l‘I am telling you this story,” said the 
Tiger Lily, ‘‘that you may know how much 
good your pennies do that you drop into the 
missionary box, for you see by the kind act of 
that little girl the Chinese girls are worth 
saving, for they are kind and good and grow 
up to be a blessing to their country.” 

‘‘What became of the beggar?” asked 
Martha. 

“The little girl reached the mission,” the 
Lily said, “and they sent some one from there 
to take the beggar away. Very likely the 
missionaries took care of him.” 

“I am glad you told me that story,” said 
Martha. “I shall try to save more pennies 
now to send to the little girls in China.” 

The Tulip spoke next. 

“I am afraid,” she said, “that my story 
will not be very interesting, but I don’t suppose 
that many people know that I bloomed long 
ago in Constantinople, the city of beautiful 
hills, where the mosques and the tombs and 
the fountains make a strange picture in the 
moonlight. 

“There the ladies wear queerly draped 
gowns and their veiled faces leave only their 
bright eyes exposed. 


98 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Afterward I bloomed in a country where 
everybody seems happy, and that is the land 
I love best. The children in that country 
look like little stuffed dolls in their many 
petticoats and close-fitting bonnets around 
their chubby little faces. Their little shoes 
clatter over the stones, sounding like many 
horses in the distance. There I was best 
loved and grew in profusion and beauty around 
the quaint homes of these quaint-looking 
people. 

‘Ah, me, it is a long way from here,’’ sighed 
the Tulip, “and I often long to hear the sound 
of the Zuider Zee as I did once long ago.” 

“Why, she has gone to sleep,” said Martha 
as the Tulip closed and drooped her head, ‘ ‘ and 
I must go in the house. Grandmother will be 
looking for me.” 

“Will you come again?” asked the fiowers; 
“there are many more that have stories to 
tell.” 

“I shall be glad to hear them,” said Martha, 
“for I had no idea that flowers could tell such 
interesting stories.” 



WHEN JACK FROST WAS YOUNG 

N ot that he is old now, for Jack is a snappy, 
bright fellow, and will never really grow 
old — that is, in anything but experience. 

And that is exactly what this story is about, 
the time when Jack Frost was young in ex- 
perience and would not listen to his mother, 
old Madam North Wind. 

One morning he awoke and hustled about 
with a will, and Madam North Wind, who had 
not yet begun to arise early in the morning, 
was aroused from her slumbers. 

'‘Whatever are your doing, making such a 
noise at this time in the morning?” she asked 
her son. 



loo SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“It is time I was on my round,’' said Jack 
Frost, in a snappy, sharp tone. “I mean to 
begin early and not let all the farmers get 
ahead of me and get their com and pumpkins 
and such things in the bam. 

“They will have to look out for me, I tell 
you, mother. I am a sharp, snappy yotmg 
fellow, and they must know it.” 

“You go back to your bed,” said old Madam 
North Wind. “It is not time for frosts yet. 
You should not begin your roimds for another 
two weeks at least.” 

“Oh, mother, you are so old-fashioned,” 
said Jack Frost. “I want to be up and doing. 
Those farmers think they know everything 
there is to know about the weather, and I 
want to show them I am too smart for them. 
I shall start off to-night.” 

“You listen to me if you do not wish to 
spoil all your beautiful colored pictures. Jack,” 
said his mother. “I may be old-fashioned, 
but I know what the beauty of your work is 
worth, and if you do not wish to lose your 
reputation as an artist you go back to your 
bed and wait imtil I call you.” 

But Jack Frost, like many a son, thought 
his mother was far too old-fashioned; but to 


WHEN JACK FROST WAS YOUNG loi 

keep her from fretting he crept into bed again 
and kept still until he was sure his mother was 
asleep. 

All day he kept quiet, and when the dark- 
ness came he listened to make sure old 
Madam North Wind was still sleeping before 
he crept softly out of his bed. 

Very quietly he got out his big white coat 
and cap and then he filled his big white bag 
with white shiny frost from his mother’s chest. 

He filled the bag full and then shook it 
down and put in more. “I’ll give them a 
good one to-night,” he said, laughing at the 
thought of the siuprise he would give the 
farmers. 

Then he crept softly past his sleeping 
mother, and out he went, flying swiftly over 
hill and dale. 

All aroimd he spread the white frost, and 
when at last he finished his work the old 
Sun Man, looking over the crest of the hill, 
was horrified when he looked upon a white 
world. 

“You rascal!” he shouted after Jack Frost’s 
flying shape. “You are far too early! You 
have spoiled all your pictures for this year ! ” 

“Old silly, what does he know?” said Jack 


102 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


as he hurried along. ^‘He is just like mother 
— old-fashioned.” 

Jack got softly into bed, and not until his 
mother called him did he awake again. 

''Come,” she said one day, "it is time now 
for you to be about your work, and your 
pictures should be gorgeous in their colorings 
this year. Be careful, my son; scatter your 
frost to-night lightly, and again to-morrow 
night. I will go out in the morning and see 
how things look.” 

Jack Frost did not tell his mother he had 
been out before. He did not need to tell her, 
for the next morning before old Madam 
North Wind had gone far she knew what had 
happened. "They are all spoiled,” she said 
as she looked over the landscape; "all black 
and dead before they had a bit of color.” 

"Come out and look at your work,” she 
said, going back for her son. "You thought 
you knew more about it than your old mother.” 

Jack Frost had no idea what old Madam 
North Wind meant, but he felt sure something 
was wrong, so he followed his mother very 
meekly; but when they reached the forest he 
knew something was wrong indeed. 

No bright and beautifully-colored leaves and 


WHEN JACK FROST WAS YOUNG 103 

bushes met his gaze. All were brown and 
black. ‘‘What is the matter with my pic- 
tures?’' he asked. “I thought they would 
be very beautiful this year.” 

“You stole out before it was time, and you 
not only surprised the farmers, but you spoiled 
all your gorgeous pictures and cheated all the 
people who look for them. There will be none 
this year because you thought you knew more 
than I. Go home. There is no work for you, 
and perhaps you will listen to me next year 
and not get up until I call you.” 

Jack Frost went home a sadder but wiser 
fellow and the next year he slept and did not 
put his frosty nose out from under his blanket 
until old Madam North Wind called him. 



THE REVENGE OF THE FIREFLIES 



HE Fireflies and the Goblins had always 


1 been good friends, just as they were with 
the Fairies, until one night when the Goblins 
held a frolic in the woods and did not invite 
the Fireflies to come. 

It was a bright moonlight night, and the 
Goblins, who did not think much about any- 
one or anything if it did not in some way 
help them, knew they would not need the 
Fireflies’ lanterns, so they did not bother to 
send them an invitation. 

When the moon was high up in the sky so 
it shone down on all the trees in the woods, 
making it almost like daylight, the Goblins 


THE REVENGE OF THE FIREFLIES 105 

came tumbling out of their rocks and began 
their frolic. 

They tumbled and they played such antics 
in the moonlight that anyone who did not 
know who they were and had seen them would 
surely have thought them a lot of crazy little 
creatures. 

Of course, the Fireflies came flying along, 
and when they saw what was going on they 
began asking one another if anyone had re- 
ceived an invitation. 

''It is plain to be seen why they did not 
invite us,” said one old Firefly. "They did 
not need us because the moon is shining.” 

"That shows us what their friendship is 
worth,” said another. "If they need our 
lights, they invite us; if not, we are forgotten.” 

For a few minutes all the Fireflies flashed 
with anger and then the old Firefly said. "I 
think we can have revenge if all of you will 
do as I tell you, and if I am not much mistaken 
those Goblin fellows will remember us the 
next time they have a frolic, even if they do 
not need us.” 

All the Fireflies wanted to know what the 
old Firefly had in his mind, but not a word 
would he tell them about his plan until they 


io6 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


ran about and called together all the Fireflies 
for miles and miles around. 

Of course, it did not take those sprightly 
little creatures long to fly miles and miles, 
and pretty soon in one corner of the woods 
were gathered together thousands of Fireflies. 

‘‘My plan is this,” said the old Firefly when 
they were all there, “the Goblins are to go 
sailing on the lily . pads after the frolic and 
we will go around to all the rocks and alight 
on all of them, for that is where they live, and 
when they return from their sail they will 
think their homes are on fire. 

“Shine as brightly as you can, every one 
of you, and don’t wink or blink, so the Gob- 
lins will not suspect us. They will have a 
good fright, if nothing else.” 

Away went the Fireflies in groups of thou- 
sands, and pretty soon all the rocks in the 
woods were covered; but not until the Goblins 
returned from their moonlight sail did the 
Fireflies let their bright lights be seen. 

The Goblins stopped every one when they 
reached the woods, for all the rocks were a 
blaze of light. “Oh, our homes!” they all 
cried; “someone has set them on fire. What 
shall we do?” 


THE REVENGE OF THE FIREFLIES 107 

Hither and thither like little bees they flew, 
but it was no use; they could not enter their 
homes. They were all on fire. 

Where shall we sleep?’’ they began to ask 
one another, for they were all very tired after 
the frolic. 

“We can crawl under the leaves,” said one 
Goblin, “but we dare not sleep, for if the 
fairies should find us, no knowing what they 
would do to us with their wands. We will 
have to stay awake all night, and in the 
morning if the fire is out we can crawl into 
our homes, for, of course, the rocks cannot 
bum.” 

“No, but they can be very hot and burn 
us,” said another. “Oh dear, I wish we had 
not gone sailing ; perhaps we could have saved 
our homes.” 

So under the leaves they crawled, but not 
a wink of sleep did those Goblins dare take, 
and when it was ’most daylight time the Fire- 
flies put out their lights and silently flew away. 

When the Goblins went to their rocks they 
were surprised to find them all cool and not 
at all hot as they had expected, and one of 
the Goblins, putting a pointed little finger on 
the side of his pointed nose said to the others : 


io8 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


“I have a thought, and it is this: The Fire- 
flies were not invited to our frolic and I wonder 
if they alighted on oiu* rocks for revenge?” 

“I wonder,” said the others; but they were 
all so sleepy they could not think, so in they 
tumbled and were soon fast asleep; but the 
next time they gave a frolic the very first 
thing they did was to invite all the Fireflies, 
and not one did they forget. 



SALLIE HICKS’S FOREFINGER 

S ALLIE HICKS was a little girl who was 
good most of the time, but she had one 
bad habit, and that was caused by her fore- 
finger on her right hand. 

Sallie’s right-hand forefinger would get into 
things it should not, and it caused Sallie’s 
mother a great deal of trouble, and most of 
Sallie’s punishments were on account of that 
unruly right-hand-forefinger. 

One day Sallie’s mother set a dish of hot 
jelly on the kitchen table to cool. She told 
Sallie it was hot and she must not touch it. 
But no sooner was her mother out of the 

kitchen and the cook’s head was turned 
8 


no SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


another way than Sallie Hicks forgot all about 
her mother’s warning, and the naughty right- 
hand forefinger went right into the hot jelly. 

Oh, how Sallie screamed with pain! And she 
forgot all about putting the forefinger in her 
mouth to taste the jelly, it burned her so. 

The big tears ran right down Sallie’ s pretty 
pink cheeks, and her mother and grandmother, 
and cook, too, came nmning to see what was 
the matter. 

The little forefinger told the story, and it 
had to be wrapped in some cooling salve and 
a soft piece of linen. 

told you that some day you would get 
that finger burned,” said her mother, ^‘and 
now because you disobeyed me you must 
sit in the big chair in the hall until lunch time 
and not speak to anyone. I want you to think 
about that naughty finger.” 

Sallie ’s grandmother passed her in the hall 
and leaned over and kissed her. “I am sorry 
that grandmother’s little girl was so naughty,” 
she said. “Good little girls mind their mothers 
and they don’t get burnt fingers.”- 

Sallie watched her grandmother go upstairs 
and then Sallie looked at the picture hanging 
on the wall of her great-grandmother. 


SALLIE HICKS’S FOREFINGER 


III 


wonder if Grandmother Great ever had 
to punish grandmother,” thought Sallie. '‘I 
wonder if grandmothers were always very 
good little girls?” 

Sallie looked at her Grandfather Great, too, 
and wondered how it was that, though the 
Greats were the father and mother of her own 
dear grandmother, they had nice black hair, 
all smooth and shiny, while her grandmother 
and grandfather, too, had white hair. 

Sallie looked at the forefinger all wrapped 
about with the white cloth, and she thought 
how dreadful it would be to have her finger 
big and long as it looked now. Then she 
looked at Grandmother Great again and her 
eyes seemed to be looking right at that little 
burnt forefinger 

Sallie put her right hand behind her, but 
the eyes of Grandmother Great looked right 
at Sallie. 

Sallie winked her eyes and looked again, for 
she thought her Grandmother Great smiled 
at her. Sallie looked hard at the picture, and 
Grandmother Great seemed to shake her head 
at Sallie. 

'‘Didn’t your little girl ever do anything 
naughty with her forefinger?” asked Sallie. 


1 12 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Grandmother Great smiled. “I had several 
little girls once, but they were all good little 
girls,” said Grandmother Great. 

“Always, every bit of the time?” questioned 
Sallie. 

“Yes; I cannot remember now that they 
ever did anything naughty,” said Grand- 
mother Great. “But you know, dear, it was 
a long time ago. I had my little girls a very 
long time ago.” 

“Perhaps you forget when it is a long time 
ago,” said Sallie. “Didn’t your little girls 
ever put their forefinger in anything just to 
taste it?” 

“Oh dear, yes; I remember now that your 
grandmother did put her forefinger, the right- 
hand forefinger it was, too, in the wheel of 
the wringer once to see what would happen,” 
said Grandmother Great. 

“Did she cry?” asked Sallie. 

“Oh dear, yes, poor little girlie; she cried, 
and I was so frightened I cried, too. Her poor 
little finger never grew quite as it should at the 
end,” said Grandmother Great, with a sigh. 

“ Do mothers cry when little girls get burnt 
putting their fingers into things they should 
not?” asked Sallie. 


SALLIE HICKS’S FOREFINGER 


113 

^‘Of course they do, my dear. Mothers 
have many a cry over their little girls when 
they are naughty,” said Grandmother Great. 

“I don’t want mother to cry,” said Sallie. 

“Of course you don’t, my dear,” said 
Grandmother Great. “So you will not put 
your finger in anything again, will you?” 

Before Sallie could promise her Grand- 
mother Great she would be a good little girl 
she heard some one say, “Sallie, Sallie, come 
to lunch.” 

Sallie opened her eyes, for she had been 
asleep, dreaming all this time, and there stood 
her mother in the doorway. 

“Mother, do mothers forget how naughty 
their little girls were when they grow up?” 
asked Sallie. 

' ‘ I think so, ” said her mother. ‘ ‘ I hope you 
will be so good before you grow up that I 
shall forget how naughty you were this 
morning.” 

“Grandmother Great told me mothers did 
forget their little girls were naughty ever, after 
they grew up,” said Sallie. 

“You mean your grandmother told you; 
not Grandmother Great,” said Sallie ’s mother. 
“You never saw Grandmother Great, dear.” 


1 14 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

'‘Well, she told me so just now,” said Sallie, 
“and she said, too, that grandmother put her 
finger in the wheel of the wringing machine 
once, and that she cried because grandmother, 
who was her little girl then, cried, and was 
hurt.” 

“What is the child talking about?” said 
Sallie ’s mother. 

“She has been asleep and dreamed it,” said 
Sallie’ s grandmother, taking Sallie in her arms. 
“I showed her my forefinger where it was 
hurt when I was a little girl and told her she 
must look out for her forefinger or she might 
get it terribly hurt just as I did. 

‘ Did you think the picture of Grandmother 
Great spoke to you?” she asked Sallie, holding 
her close in her arms. 

“She did,” said Sallie, “and she said 
mothers always cried when their little girls are 
naughty. Oh, mother dear, I don’t want to 
make you cry, and I won’t put my finger in 
anything again, truly I won’t!” sobbed Sallie. 

“She isn’t half awake yet,” said her grand- 
mother as Sallie ’s mother took her in her arms 
and kissed her. 

Sallie kept her promise, even if she did 
dream about Grandmother Great talking to 


SALLIE HICKS’S FOREFINGER 115 

her, and the right-hand forefinger did not get 
her into any more trouble. 

Sallie Hicks often looks at the portraits in 
the hall of Grandmother and Grandfather 
Great, but Grandmother Great never has 
spoken to her since that day. But Sallie 
Hicks smiles at her and sometimes the eyes 
seem to smile back, and Sallie wonders if they 
really do. 



THE RAIN ELVES 

T he Rain Elf children had been shut up 
in their houses for ever so long, for it 
had been hot and the Rain Elves do not like 
very hot weather. 

Their mothers, the Rain Clouds, awoke one 
morning and found the sun was not shining, 
so they told their children they could drop 
down and play on the Earth awhile. 

“ Now, mind you, do not all go. Part of you 
can go at a time, because there are so many, 
many millions of you; the poor Earth would 
be quite overcome if all the Rain Elves went 
down at once.” 

So a few from each family of the Rain 
Cloud's children went out the door as their 


THE RAIN ELVES 117 

mothers opened it and down they dropped 
upon the /dry Earth. 

Oh, the gardens were so glad to see them! 
The flowers lifted their drooping heads and 
smiled a glad welcome. '‘Where have you 
been?” they asked. ‘‘It is so long since you 
were here we thought you had forgotten us.” 

“Oh no, we didn’t forget you!” replied the 
Rain Elves, “but it has been so hot our 
mothers would not let us come out. We 
can stay but a little while, because we have 
many, many millions of brothers that want 
to come down to the garden, too; so we will 
have to go back, and the next shower will bring 
some of the others.” 

The little flowers were grieved when they 
heard this, for they were so dusty and thirsty 
they felt they could never get enough of the 
shining little Elves. 

“What shall we do to keep them here?” 
they whispered among themselves. “If they 
go back to the clouds, perhaps the others will 
not come. Oh, if the old Wind Witch would 
only come along she might help us.” 

“ She might get us all into trouble also,” said 
a slender lily. ‘ ‘ I think we better trust the Rain 
Cloud mothers to do what they think best.” 


ii8 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


But poor little lily’s words were not noticed 
and a tall hollyhock was asked to find old 
Wind Witch and request her to help them 
keep the Rain Elves all day. 

The old Wind Witch laughed with glee when 
she heard the request, for she saw a chance 
to work mischief and make it appear she was 
trying to do good. 

'‘Tell the pretty flowers they shall have the 
Rain Elves all day, and their brothers, too,” 
she said to the hollyhock, and off she flew up 
to the Rain Cloud homes. 

She went about the clouds very carefully and 
gently, for she knew if the Rain Cloud mothers 
heard her they would call their children home ; 
but by and by she saw her chance, and while 
the Rain Cloud mothers were busy she softly 
opened the door of each cloud one by one 
and beckoned to the Rain Elves. 

“Run along quickly,” she said. “Your 
brothers are having such a fine time they have 
quite forgotten you; they will not be back to- 
day, so run along and be merry with them.” 

The little Rain Elves did not stop to think 
they should wait for their mothers to tell 
them when to go, they were so eager to get out. 

Down they went quite gently at first with 


THE RAIN ELVES 


119 

a patter, patter, pat, and then they quite 
lost their heads, thinking of the fun they would 
have, and dowu they dropped, splash, splash, 
splash. 

At first the flowers laughed and danced 
about for joy, for they were getting their 
leaves and blossoms washed and their thirsty 
petals satisfied; but in a little while the Rain 
Elves came so fast and thick the petals drop- 
ped off one by one, and then the stems bent 
imder the swift coming of the Elves. 

Pretty soon the garden was filled with water 
so that the grass could not be seen, while old 
Wind Witch danced about overhead and 
cackled with delight at the mischief she had 
done. 

^‘Oh dear! I did not know there were so 
many of you!” cried a rose as her stem broke 
and she fell into the water. 

was afraid of it,” sighed the lily as she 
fell to the groimd. “A few Elves at a time 
is best. The mother Rain Clouds know.” 

Such a commotion as there was in the Rain 
Cloud homes when the mothers foimd the 
doors of their houses open! They hustled 
about and called for the Rain Elves to come 
home; but they were so taken up with the 


120 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


fun they were having, spattering and splash- 
ing, they did not hear. 

By and by old Sun Man saw them, and it 
did not take him long to throw his hot rays 
on old Wind Witch and drive her away, and 
then the Rain Elves felt the Sun Man’s 
breath and thought of home. 

One by one they disappeared. Some hid 
among the roses and other flowers that were 
left in the garden, and others were lucky 
enough to get back to their cloud houses and 
their mothers, but they left the garden a very 
sad-looking place. 

“Who ever would have thought there were 
so many of those Rain Elves,” said a 
bedraggled-looking flower. “I shall never 
wish for them to stay all day again.” 

“ The' lily was wiser than we thought,” said 
another. “The Rain Cloud mothers know 
best what is good for us, and the next time 
they send a part of their children I think we 
better be satisfied and not get them all here 
at once.” ^ 

“I think you are right,” sighed the holly- 
hock from the ground, where he had fallen. 
“Shall I ever see over the wall again, I wonder. 
Such a fall as I took none of you can realize.” 



MR. FOX’S HOUSEWARMING 

M r. fox had been so much disturbed by 
Mr. Dog and his master that he de- 
cided to try living somewhere besides on the 
ground floor of the woods. 

One night he took a look around i;i the 
moonlight, and to his delight he discovered 
the very place for him to live. 

It was a house built in the branches of a 
big tree that some boys very likely had made 
the year before. ‘‘Now with a very little re- 
pairing this will be the flnest house in the 
woods,” said Mr. Fox. 

So over the hill he ran to Mr. Man’s and 
brought away all that was needed to make his 
house comfortable. 


122 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


He even found an old piece of stovepipe to 
make his stove draw well, and in a few days 
Mr. Fox told all his friends of his new home 
and invited them to a housewarming. 

Mr. Coon and Mr. Possum and Mr. Squirrel 
were not at all upset by finding out that Mr. 
Fox’s new home was in the big tree, but Mr. 
Rabbit and Mr. Badger looked very sad and 
said it was out of the question for them to 
accept Mr. Fox’s kind invitation, much as they 
would like to come. 

Mr. Fox had borrowed a ladder from Mr. 
Man, and when Mr. Rabbit and Mr. Badger 
said they could not come Mr. Fox remembered 
that he was not much of a climber himself 
and that if he did not keep that ladder he 
might have a hard time getting into his home 
when he was in a hurry. 

So he decided that Mr. Man would not need 
it as much as he would and that it would also 
make a nice addition to his home. 

When he told Mr. Badger and Mr. Rabbit 
about the ladder they decided to come, and 
one night when the moon was shining the 
animals were all to go to Mr. Fox’s house to 
dinner. 

Mr. Fox thought it would be the cheapest 


MR. FOX’S HOUSEWARMING 


123 


way to fill his guests with soup, so he took 
all the bones that he had collected and put 
them in a pot on the stove to boil. 

Up curled the smoke from his chimney and 
out through the windows went the nice- 
smelling odor of soup, and Mr. Dog, who 
happened to be running through the woods, 
saw and smelled as well. 

He wagged his tail and looked up at the 
house in the tree ; then he whined and scratched 
the tree, and as he danced about it, with his 
eyes fixed upon the house all the time, he 
bumped into the ladder. 

“Ah, how fortunate!” he said, and up he 
went and into Mr. Fox’s house he went, too, 
and took the cover off the pot. 

It did not take him a second to remove the 
pot from the stove and pour out the soup in 
the sink and cool those bones, and then such 
a feast as he had. 

He ate until he became sleepy; then he lay 
down on the floor and went to sleep. 

Mr. Dog did not dream that Mr. Fox lived 
in that house; not that he was afraid of him, 
but he would have slept with one eye open so 
that he could catch him if he had known. 

Mr. Fox was out roaming over the hill, look- 


124 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

ing about for a stray turkey or hen, and he 
did not come home imtil it was nearly dark. 

He ran up the ladder, and without striking 
a light he went toward the stove to see how 
his soup was getting on, and stumbled over 
Mr. Dog. Up jumped Mr. Dog with a gruff 
bark, and Mr. Fox, not stopping for the 
ladder, jumped out of the window and almost 
broke his neck, while Mr. Dog looked after 
him, barking and yelping in a terrible manner. 

Mr. Fox did not stop. He kept on running, 
and Mr. Dog, thinking of the bones he did 
not finish, turned away from the window and 
began to eat. While he was eating the guests 
for the housewarming began to arrive. Mr. 
Coon did not need the ladder to help him, or 
Mr. Possum, either, nor did Mr. Squirrel, but 
as it was there they felt it would not be 
polite to enter any other way. 

Mr. Possum started up first, and behind 
him Mr. Coon. Then came Mr. Badger, and 
Mr. Rabbit behind him, while Mr. Squirrel 
ran up the side of the ladder. 

When they were about halfway up, Mr. 
Dog, hearing a noise outside, went to the door, 
and of all the surprised creatures you ever 
saw, the guests were the most surprised, im- 


MR. FOX’S HOUSEWARMING 


125 


less it was Mr. Dog. He forgot to bark for 
a second, he was so taken back. 

Then he recovered and out of the door he 
went; but he was not used to going down a 
ladder, and on the first round he slipped and 
down he went. 

The guests started to jump just as Mr. Dog 
barked, but they were not out of the way 
when Mr. Dog fell, and down they all tumbled, 
Mr. Dog, Mr. Possum, Mr. Coon and Mr. 
Badger. 

Mr. Squirrel jumped, too, but he jumped 
for a limb of the tree and was not in the 
mix-up. He said it was the funniest sight he 
ever saw, and he had a fine view from where 
he sat. 

But Mr. Rabbit said he was sure his view 
of the affair was the best, for, being nearest 
the bottom of the ladder when the tumble 
began, he was up and out of the way when 
they all came down on the ground. 

'‘You could not tell who was who or which 
from the other,’' said Mr. Rabbit, later talking 
it over with Mr. Squirrel. 

It was a long time before Mr. Fox could 
make the guests believe he had not planned 

to have Mr. Dog at his house-warming, but 
9 


126 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 


when Mr. Squirrel told them that he had seen 
the bones on the floor and the kettle in the 
sink they finally forgave Mr. Fox. 

He decided the ground floor was the safest 
for him, after all, and when he was once again 
settled he gave a feast, and this time Mr. Dog 
was not there. 



LITTLE PITCHER-MAN 

O N a pantry shelf there once lived a funny 
squatty-looking pitcher-man. His cap 
was brown and that was the top of the pitcher. 
His coat was yellow and his vest green. 

He was round and fat, as well as squatty, 
and his legs were short. He wore brown 
trousers (what there was of them) and white 
stockings and black shoes. 

But the face under the cap was what every- 
one noticed most; it was always laughing. 
Oh, I forgot to say that his hands held on to 
his sides as if he feared he would burst with 
laughing so hard. 

One day there came to the pantry to live 


128 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

a new dish, and when it saw the *Pitcher-man 
it asked another dish standing by why the 
Pitcher-man was always laughing. 

‘'I do not know,” replied the other dish, 
“but he never does anything but laugh. I 
have never thought to ask why.” 

So the new dish waited until it was all quiet 
in the pantry at night, and then it asked the 
Pitcher-man why he laughed all the time. 

“Oh dear! I have to laugh every time I 
think of it,” answered the Pitcher-man. “No 
one has ever asked me why I laughed before, 
and I do not know that I can stop long enough 
to tell you why.” 

But all the other dishes gathered about 
him and begged him to tell his story, and at 
last he managed to stop laughing and talk. 

“It happened ever and ever so long ago,” 
he said, “one moonlight night when the house 
was very still. 

“Mistress Puss came in through the door 
and looked about; then she sniffed, for you 
see on a platter on the shelf was a nice fish 
for the next day’s dinner. 

“Puss walked along to the window, and just 
before she jumped up on the sill so she could 
jump on the shelf I saw a mouse run along 


LITTLE PITCHER-MAN 


129 


the shelf where the fish was and jump into a 
pie that was cut. 

^‘He ran under the crust and began to 
nibble and, of course, did not see Puss; but 
when she reached the fish she gave it a pull 
and the tail hit the pie. 

‘‘Oh dear! when I think of it I just have 
to laugh,'' and Pitcher-man again held his 
sides while he almost burst with laughing. 

‘'Oh, do tell us what happened!" asked the 
dishes, so interested they could hardly wait to 
hear the end of the story. 

The Pitcher-man wiped his eyes and then 
went on: “As I said, the tail of the fish hit 
the pie where the mouse was eating. That, 
of course, scared him and he jumped out. 

“He landed right on Puss's head and that 
scared her so she tumbled off the shelf, the 
fish on top of her. 

“Puss never knew what happened. She 
thought the fish was alive and ran for her 
life, and the mouse hustled about helter- 
skelter trying to find the hole in the wall, for 
his wits were just scared out of his head. 

“Oh dear! it was so funny, and the next 
day when the cook gave the fish-head to Puss 
she ran out of doors and cook thought she had 


130 SANDMAN'S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

a fit because no cat was ever known to refuse 
fish before. 

“But I knew what was the matter, and 
every time I think about it all I just have to 
laugh. Ha! ha! ha!’’ 

And that is the reason little Pitcher-man is 
always laughing. He cannot stop, for he al- 
ways is thinking about what he saw many 
years ago one moonlight night in the p'antry. 



THE WINDFLOWER’S STORY 

O NE day a little Windflower growing in 
a garden heard the Rosebush say to the 
Pansies, ‘‘What a quiet little creature the 
Windflower is ! She seems to be a modest little 
thing, but she never stays here long enough 
to get acquainted; so I do not know whether 
she hides her igaorance by keeping quiet or 
is a deep thinker. ” 

“I think she is deep. Miss Rose,” said the 
Hollyhock, near by. “You know I can see 
farther than anyone here, and it is my opinion 
that the Windflower is deep, and I think, too, 
she has a story. ” 

“A story!” cried the Pansies, turning up 


132 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

their pretty faces to the Hollyhock. “Oh, 
how interesting.” 

“What do you mean by a story?” asked 
the Rosebush. 

“Oh, I mean she is deep and knows things 
of which we little dream. There is some- 
thing between her and the Wind, but I cannot 
learn her secret.” 

Rosebush held up her head, the Pansies 
turned their little faces aroimd and looked 
at the modest little Windflower to see if they 
could read her secret. 

“ I have no secret the world cannot know, ” 
said the Windflower. “All my family love 
the Wind; this all the world would know if 
they knew our history.” 

Rosebush and the Pansies and Hollyhock 
began to question the little Windflower, and 
this is what she told them: 

“Oh, a long, long time ago some beautiful 
goddess grieved very much over the death of 
some one she dearly loved, and she created in 
memory of this friend a beautiful flower which 
she named Anemone. That is our real name. ’ ’ 

“Oh, how grand is soimds!” said the Rose- 
bush. “Such a big name, too, for such a little 
flower. ” 


THE WINDFLOWER’S STORY 


133 


“Yes, it is big,” replied the little Wind- 
flower, “but you see we had nothing at all to 
do with our name; the Wind fell in love with 
us and opened our blossoms — that is the way 
we happened to be named, I am told.” 

“Oh, how interesting!” said the Rosebush, 
beginning to look with envy upon the little 
Windflower. 

“But you are a small family, I think, ” said 
the Rosebush. “ I have seen very few of your 
kind in our garden. ” 

“No, we are a numerous and beautiful 
family,” said the Windflower. 

“Oh, how conceited she is!” said the Rose- 
bush in a whisper to the Pansies. “Think 
of calling herself beautiful. For my part, 
I think her white and purple quite plain- 
looking. ” 

But in spite of the low voice of the Rose 
the little Windflower heard her. “Oh, you 
are quite mistaken if you think I feel I am 
beautiful!” she said. “It is of our family I 
speak; you should see some of my sisters; 
they are wonderful, purple and so silky they 
are beautiful. 

“And other sisters are a beautiful blue. 
Oh, I am by far the plainest of our family. 


134 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

But the Wind has no favorites; he takes us 
all along with him, though, of course, my 
sisters that grow in moimtain pastures go 
oftener with the Wind than others.” 

“Oh, here comes that horrid breeze!” said 
the Rosebush. ‘ ‘ He always spoils everything. ’ ’ 
And she gathered her petals closer to her and 
leaned back among the leaves. 

When she opened her petals to look aroimd 
the garden again the little Windflower was 
not there. 

“Why, where has the Windflower gone?” 
she asked. 

“Oh, you missed it!” said the Pansies, nod- 
ding very knowingly. “That breeze came 
to tell the Windflower that the Wind would 
be along in a minute. We heard him, so we 
watched, and in a little while the Wind came 
and took the Windflower away with him. 
She went up high right over Hollyhock’s 
head.” 

Hollyhock, who had been gazing about, 
lowered his head. “She is out of sight,” he 
told the Rosebush and the Pansies. “The 
Wind came this morning and whispered to 
her, but I could not hear what he said; but 
she opened wide her blossom and nodded.” 


THE WINDFLOWER’S STORY 


135 


“Now, what do you suppose there is be- 
tween the Windflower and the Wind?” asked 
Rosebush. 

“Just what she told us,” said Hollyhock. 
“He is in love with the Windflowers.” 

“I should prefer a more tender lover,” 
said Rosebush. “I think him quite rude 
at times. The way he blows through our 
garden is far from gentle. ” 

“Some lil^e strong lovers that can master 
them,” said Hollyhock, lifting his head and 
standing very straight. 

“I suppose so,” sighed the Rosebush; 
“but it is just as I have always said. You 
never can tell about the quiet, modest ones. 
Think of the little Windflower having such 
a story and flying away with the Wind. My, 
my! What a world!” 



PUSSY WILLOW’S FURS 

M ISS PUSSY WILLOW put on her furs 
one day in March and stepped out into 
the sunshine; but, while the sun was warm, 
March’s breath was cold, so she hugged her 
furs closer about her and sat on a swaying 
bough. 

It was early and Miss Pussy knew it, but 
what cared she, dressed in her furs; she knew 
that her silver -gray dress was very much 
admired, and while she was modest she was 
not above caring for admiration. 

Pussy Willow had no trouble tmtil all the 
spring and summer flowers arrived in their 
gayly colored gowns and then, though she did 


PUvSSY WILLOW’S FURS 


137 


not in the least envy them, she did not like 
to hear the scornful remarks about her furs, 
and sometimes she wished that under her fur 
coat she had a pretty colored gown. 

'‘It is really too bad,” said one Red Flower. 
“Poor Pussy Willow! I do feel so sorry for 
her; she wears that fur coat all the year round.” 

“You know why, my dear, do you not?” 
asked a tall Blue Flower growing near. 

“I suppose she has no other,” said the Red 
Flower. 

“I think it is because she has on an old 
dress,” answered tall Blue Flower; “she never 
takes off that fur coat, you notice, and, of 
course, these hot days she would if she had 
a new dress. Don’t you think I am right? ” 

“I should not wonder if you were,” was the ‘ 
reply, “but let us ask Mr. Poppy what he 
thinks.” 

“Oh, what is the use of asking him. He is 
asleep half the time. I do believe he never 
sees our pretty frocks at all,” replied Blue 
Flower. “Let us ask Miss Thistle; she sees 
everything and she may have asked Miss 
Willow before this why she never takes off 
her coat; you know Thistle cares nothing for 
the feelings of others.” 


138 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Miss Thistle said she did not know, but 
that she would ask Miss Willow right away, 
'‘for why in the world she wears that fur coat 
all summer I cannot think. She really is the 
only one around here who does not give 
attention to her clothes. I think style means 
more than color,” said Miss Thistle, with a 
toss of her head. 

“I can tell you what you wish to know,” 
said Lady Bug, alighting on a bush near the 
gossips. 

” Oh, do, dear Lady Bug!” said Blue Flower. 
” You travel and know the styles. Now doa’t 
you think blue is ever so much better style 
for summer than any other color?” 

“Yes, I do travel,” replied Miss Lady Bug, 
without replying to Blue Flower’s question, 
“and I see the styles, as you said, and that is 
the reason I can tell you the truth about 
Pussy Willow. She is the only one among 
you who really is in style.” 

“In style with that fur on!” said Thistle, 
all prickly with anger. “Why, where have you 
been. Lady Bug? Up to the North Pole?” 

“No,” calmly replied Miss Lady Bug. “I 
have been everywhere that fashionable folks 
go, and everybody is wearing furs, no matter 


PUSSY WILLOW’S FURS 


139 


how hot the weather; and so I tell you again 
that the only one who is in style is Miss Pussy 
Willow with her silvery fur.” 

Miss Pussy Willow did not let the flowers 
around her know that she heard what Lady 
Bug had said, but she felt very happy and no 
longer did she wish that under her fur she had 
a dainty colored gown. 

She behaved in a modest manner and put 
on no airs, for did she not know that she 
was dressed in the latest fashion? 



ORIANNA 

B unny white, one night when the 

Fairies were holding a revel, peeped out 
of his window to see the frolic, for Bunny and 
the Fairies were the best of friends because 
members of Bunny’s family had for ages 
drawn the carriage of the Queen. 

But to-night Bunny saw a stranger in the 
midst of the Fairy group, tiny like the others, 
but very differently dressed, and the Fairies 
were all listening to what she had to say, 
rather than making merry, as was their custom. 

‘‘Who can she be?” thought Bunny White, 
and, being a very inquisitive creature, he ran 
out of his house and over to the carriage of 


ORIANNA 141 

the Fairy Queen to ask her about the little 
stranger. 

“Oh, that is our dear Orianna, the Indian 
Fairy,” answered the Queen, “and only once 
in a while does she come to visit us ” ; and then 
because Bunny White was so interested the 
Queen told him all about Orianna. 

“You see,” said the Queen, “all children 
are afraid of Indian dreams, so I had to have 
a Fairy who would make the Indians kind and 
loving to the ‘Pale Face,’ as the Indians call 
the white folk. 

“Orianna lives near the Indians in a forest, 
and when you see a tall tree with an opening 
at the bottom like the door of a wigwam you 
may be sure that it is one of Orianna’s homes. 

“Did you notice her pretty costume?” 

Bunny White told the Queen he had not 
had a very close view of Orianna, so the Queen 
told him to run over to the Fairies and see 
the pretty dress she wore. 

Orianna wore the dress of an Indian girl, 
tiny moccasins on her little feet and two tiny 
black braids, one over each shoulder, but the 
thing that attracted Bunny White the most 
was her wings. 

They were not at all like those of the other 
10 


142 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

Fairies. Orianna’s wings were feathers of an 
eagle. 

Her wand, too, was different, for instead 
of a wand she carried a tiny silver bow and 
arrow, the tip of the arrow being of gold. 

Bunny ran back to the Queen and told her 
he thought Orianna the very prettiest of all 
the Fairies. “But what is it that shines so 
on the tip of the arrow?” she asked. 

“Oh, that is the love she shoots straight 
into the hearts of all the Indians,” replied the 
Queen. 

“Orianna flies up through her tree house to 
the tallest branch and shoots her love-tipped 
arrow straight into the heart of all Indians, 
and so you see the children need never be 
afraid any more of dreaming of Indians, for 
all Indians are good and Orianna is always 
on the lookout from the top of one of her 
homes, and that is the reason she so seldom 
comes to visit us.” 

Just then Orianna came to bid the Queen 
good night, and Bunny White ran off to his 
home, but the next morning he was up bright 
and early to look for the wigwam trees. 

But not one did he find, for the Fairies are 
very clever, and who ever did find the places 


ORIANNA 


143 


where they live; but for all that we know, 
there are Fairies, and now that Orianna is 
taking care of the Indians no little boy or 
girl need ever be afraid of Indian dreams, be- 
cause the Fairy Queen has given them a 
Fairy. 



OLD NORTH WIND 

O LD North Wind lived away up in the 
North Pole Land in the winter, and there 
her children, the Icebergs, grew. 

Old North Wind was very proud of her 
huge children, and when the long, cold winter 
was at an end she said: '‘My big, strong 
children, come with me. We will float away 
from this land where there is no one to see 
your beauty and go to the seas where the 
ships are sailing. 

“Of course, you all cannot go, but I will 
take the three big brothers because they are 
the strongest, and show the old South Wind 



OLD NORTH WIND 145 

and the Stm we are stronger and mightier 
than they.” 

So the three largest of the icebergs broke 
away from their brothers and sailed away 
with old North Wind, who blew her chilling 
breath on them as they went along. 

‘‘Ah, my beauties,” she said, “I will make 
you so strong that no breath of harm can 
come to you, and you shall crush the big 
ships and make all who see you tremble with 
fear.” 

The Icebergs believed old North Wind, for 
they had never been away from North Pole 
Land and did not know anything about the 
warm South Wind, or how warm and melting 
Mr. Sun could be. 

So they sailed and sailed until they came 
to the big ocean where the ships had to cross 
as they went from one land to another. 

Old North Wind kept close to her big 
children, but one day old South Wind saw 
them. 

“Oh, ho!” he said, “there is old North 
Wind with three of her sons. She is up to 
some mischief, I’ll be bound; so I will ask Mr. 
Sun to keep his eye on them.” 

“I have been watching them for many 


146 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

days/' said Mr. Sim, “and with all of old 
North Wind's cold breath I have warmed her 
sons more than she knows." 

At last one morning bright and early old 
North Wind espied a ship sailing right in their 
path. 

“Now, my beauties," she said, with a shrill 
laugh, “show your strength and crush the 
ship that dares to sail in your path. We are 
the rulers of the sea by right of might and we 
must show our strength." 

Blowing and shrieking, old North Wind has- 
tened her sons toward the ship, and she was 
so intent on working destruction that she did 
not feel the warm breath of old South Wind 
or the rays of old Mr. Sun. 

Suddenly she saw her huge sons shiver, and 
before she could blow a chilling blast upon 
them they swayed, and with a plimge sank 
from sight, and the water closed over them. 

Old North Wind howled and blew, but the 
Sim and old South Wind drove her back to- 
ward her North Pole Land until the ship was 
safe from her wrath. 

“You wait," she shrieked as she ran away 
from Mr. Sun and old South Wind. “I’ll come 
again next year with bigger and stronger 


OLD NORTH WIND 147 

children and you shall learn who rules the 
seas.” 

“Remember, North Wind,” said old South 
Wind in soft, gentle tones, “might is not al- 
ways right, and while you can make much 
more noise than I can or old man Sim, we can 
always melt your children; so keep to your 
North Pole Land if you wish to keep them.” 

Old North Wind bustled away with angry 
shrieks, but she knew full well the power of 
South Wind and Mr. Sun, but, like many 
people, she wanted to believe in her own 
strength and power; and so she roared louder 
and louder as she blew back to her cold home- 
land in order to convince herself of her might. 



MR. FOX CUTS THE COTTONTAILS 

M r. fox decided that the only way to 
get all the wood animals to have a good 
opinion of him was to give a big dinner, for 
he had somehow got rather a bad name among 
the animals for being so tricky. 

So all day long he went about telling all 
the animals that when it was dark — quite 
dark — they were to come to his house and 
dine. 

There were the Squirrels and the Coons, 
the Possums and the Bear family and all the 
Rabbit family, including Susie Cottontail and 
her brother Jimmie and many others. 



MR. FOX CUTS THE COTTONTAILS 149 

You may be sure that no one ate any din- 
ner that day. They all saved their ap- 
petites for Mr. Fox’s night-time feast, for, 
as Mr. Coon expressed it, '‘we should be 
very ungrateful to Mr. Fox if we did not 
take to his dinner our very best appetites; 
therefore our stomachs should be empty.” 

As soon as it was dark, so that Mr. Dog 
could not see them, all the animals began 
to slowly creep toward Mr. Fox’s home. 

Mr. Fox let them in one by one and was 
careful to draw all the shades and stuff the 
keyhole so the light would not show outside 
if anything happened that Mr. Dog should 
be roaming through the woods. 

At last all the animals but Jimmie and 
Susie Cottontail were there, and everyone 
began to wonder where they could be and 
what kept them so late. 

It happened that Jimmie and Susie Cot- 
tontail were not at all sure they would enjoy 
Mr. Fox’s dinner, and they had run over to 
the farm on the hill to have a dinner of some 
garden stuff of which they were fond. 

They had stayed longer than they had 
intended, and when they started for Mr. 
Fox’s house were not as cautious as they 


150 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

usually were about throwing Mr. Dog off 
their track. 

Just as they were entering the wood who 
should come bounding after them but Mr. 
Dog, who had followed them from the farm, 
and off ran Jimmie and Susie Cottontail look- 
ing for a hole in which to hide. 

Mr. Fox’s house was the first refuge they 
came to, and in the door they burst, with Mr. 
Dog at their heels. 

Of course there was no dinner and the party 
was spoiled, for everybody ran, and Mr. Dog, 
not knowing which one to chase when he saw 
so many, went home without having caught 
anyone. 

The next day Mr. Fox was talking with his 
friend, Mr. Coon. “No one of the animals 
would have gotten us into such a fix but 
those Cottontails,” he said. 

“In the first place, their ears are so short 
they never heard quickly like some others of 
that family, and then those tails — ^why they 
can be seen for yards and yards. I should 
have known better than to ask them. 

“And everyone knows they have no sense. 
The Cottontails run into the first opening 
they see and never keep on running as their 


MR. FOX CUTS THE COTTONTAILS 151 

cousins do. I have had my lesson. I shall 
cut them off my visiting list from now on.” 

And that is the reason the Cottontail family 
are never invited to any dinners that the wood 
folk give — their trails can be too easily 
followed by Mr. Dog. 



LITTLE NEVER-UPSET 

L ittle never-upset was a roly- 

poly fellow, with weights in his little body 
so placed that no matter how he was treated 
or tumbled about he always bobbed up 
smiling. 

His face was a jolly little round one, with 
a smile that could not be rubbed off, and no 
matter how the other toys fussed or dis- 
puted among themselves. Little Never-upset 
did not take a part. 

One night when the clock struck the mid- 
night hour Miss French Doll and Miss Calico 
Doll began to fuss. 

'‘You treated me very badly,” said Miss 


LITTLE NEVER-UPSET 


153 


Calico Doll. ^‘When we were in the carriage 
riding in the park one would have thought we 
did not live in the same playroom. ” 

“Why do you not have something to wear 
besides that old calico dress?” asked Miss 
French Doll. “I never was so disgraced as 
when we met Miss Marie Doll in her beauti- 
ful clothes. I am sure she wondered who 
you were. ” 

“Anyone would think you never had a brok- 
en arm and had to go to the hospital,” 
replied Miss Calico Doll. “You were a sorry- 
looking sight without your hand and part 
of your arm, but I did not feel ashamed of 
you when we sat in our chairs on the front 
porch.” 

“That is a very different thing,” said Miss 
French Doll, with a toss of her head. “I 
could not help having an accident,” 

“I cannot help wearing this calico dress,” 
said Miss Calico Doll. “It is painted on me 
just like my face.” 

“My goodness!” exclaimed Jack-in-a-box, 
jumping up with a spring, “whatever is all the 
trouble? A body cannot get an extra wink 
for you two fussing. ” 

‘ ‘ Bow-wow-wow 1 ’ ’ barked little Dog-on- 


154 SANDMAN’S GOOD-NIGHT STORIES 

wheels, “why don’t you scare a body right 
out of his skin, Jack? I was asleep right be- 
side your box. ” 

Teddy Bear began to growl. “Anyone 
would think this was a menagerie instead of 
a playroom, ’’ he said. 

“Yes, they would,’’ said Calico Cat, with 
a spiteful twist of her tail. “Your growl helps 
me to make it real. ” 

Calico Cat humped her back ready to spring 
at Teddy if he answered, and Little Dog-on- 
wheels barked, ready to jump at any one who 
gave him the least cause. 

Jack-in-a-box quivered on his spring with 
anger because French Doll told him he had 
no legs and he better keep quiet, while Miss 
Calico Doll tried to think of something spite- 
ful to say to Miss French Doll. 

It was this very moment that Little 'Never- 
upset, who was listening to all the fussing 
from the shelf where he was sitting, set a 
good example to the playroom toys. 

“Get off my shelf!’’ said old Elephant, who 
always stood there and thought he owned it, 
and as he spoke he gave Little Never-upset a 
bang with his trunk and over he went on the 
floor, right on his head 1 


LITTLE NEVER-UPSET 


iSS 

All the toys stopped fussing to watch, and 
quick as a flash up jumped Little Never- 
upset on his feet and rolled from side to side 
with laughter. 

‘‘You are the best-natured fellow I ever 
saw,” said Teddy Bear. “Don’t you feel 
like paying Elephant back for doing that? ” 

“Not a bit,” answered Little Never-upset; 
“life is too short to quarrel. Think of all the 
fun you lose taking time to wrangle.” 

“You are right , ’ ’ said T eddy B ear. ‘ ‘ What 
was all the fuss about, anyway?” 

No one could say just what began it, and 
in a few minutes everybody was laughing 
and having a good time, and all because 
Little Never-upset had bobbed up smiling. 

Old Elephant took time, however, to lean 
over the shelf and call to Little Never-upset. 
“Say, old fellow, I am sorry I was so rude,” 
he said. “Come up again and stay as long 
as you like. ” 

And Little Never-upset nodded his head 
and said he would, smiling as if he never had 
been tumbled off the shelf. 


THE END 






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